


Summer Nights

by softseoksoons



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Chance Meetings, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Paris (City), Summer Romance, culinary student! doyoung, photographer! taeyong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24586837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softseoksoons/pseuds/softseoksoons
Summary: Quickly realizing his compromising position, Doyoung stood up and dusted off his knees. He noticed the other man had leaned down to pick up the brown paper bag.“I’m sorry,” Doyoung said in what broken French he could muster, continuing to dust the dirt away from his pants.“It’s okay,” the other replied, and when Doyoung finally picked his head up to meet the other’s eyes, the only thought that registered in his brain was that he would have to thank the wind.ORDoyoung and Taeyong meet in Paris by chance and get swept away by the city of love****  discontinued  ****
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 35
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome and thank you for being here.
> 
> Firstly I want to say, this fic is in no way amazing. My writing is mediocre at best, but I've fallen in love with this story when I started it a little over a month ago, and I hope you love it as much I do.
> 
> Special thanks to liv, my best friend who, even if she doesn't stan nct, is always my go to for writing advice. If I ever have doubts she's the one who calms me down and motivates me to keep going. I love you liv.  
> Special thanks to rani and nemo, as well as the rest of 2gaythers. Y'all have heard me scream about this fic the most and it's finally here, thanks to you guys.  
> Lastly, special thanks to Erika, my beta reader <3 (even though I'm posting this before you even finished, sorry).
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! tags and the rating will be updated as the story moves along, but I think those are all the characters we will meet, at least more than once! (PSA, the rating will never go above Mature, if that bothers anyone)  
> I created a playlist for this AU which you can find [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CftYwRgQdvpLgLbu0ONez?si=r47RGnniR1C7MTceWe-ICA)

Stepping out of the airport in Paris, Doyoung was met with a warm summer breeze winding through his hair. He took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly. Hopefully, a summer in Paris could fix whatever slump he was experiencing. 

A buzzing from his pocket interrupted his thoughts. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked to see who was calling him. It was none other than his best friend, Ten, who was back in Seoul. Sighing, he picked up the phone.

“Hey! Have you landed yet?” came the other’s voice.

“Just got out of the airport. About to look for a taxi to get me to my place,” Doyoung replied. He walked closer to the street and looked out to incoming cars and taxis. Seeing a couple of taxis driving towards him in the distance, he raised his arm to wave them down. Luckily, one stopped right next to him immediately. The driver got out of the car and helped Doyoung put his luggage in the trunk of the car before they got on their way. His French was still amateur at best, so when he settled into the backseat he showed his phone to the driver, which displayed his temporary address.

“What were you saying?” Doyoung asked Ten once the driver gave him a thumbs up after reading the address.

“I was trying to say now that you’ve landed in Paris do you have any idea what you’re going to do first?” Ten asked through the phone. Doyoung could hear the knowing tone in his voice but chose to ignore it for the time being.

“I’m probably going to spend the first couple of days just getting settled into my room and catching up on some recipes. Maybe try to learn more than ‘Hello’ and ‘Where’s the bathroom?’ in French.” Having an extended break before his last year at culinary school allowed Doyoung the time to take this trip and work on his recipes for his final assignment for the upcoming year. His slump was not doing well in helping his recipe making.

“Sounds good, but you know that’s not what I mean Doyoung.” There it was again. Doyoung sighed and rubbed his eyes in frustration, the jetlag from the long flight giving him a headache.

“What do you want me to do Ten?” He asked.

“Try something new! Go for a walk! Meet new people! Have _Fun_! I know you, and when you say you’re going to spend the first couple days getting settled in actually means spending the entire summer locked up in there.”

Doyoung let out a small huff because even if he hated to admit it, his best friend was right. He just wasn’t in the mood to be adventurous recently. He almost canceled the trip altogether, but the apartment was already paid for and his mom would kill him if he just wasted money like that.

“I will take your silence as agreement to listen to me,” Ten continued. Doyoung gave him a little hum of agreement, not really up to talk about the subject anymore. Instead, he leaned his head on the window and watched on as the buildings blended outside. He knew Ten was still on the phone, knowing Doyoung wasn’t a man of many words when he didn’t want to be. Doyoung heard him let out a small sigh. “Listen Doyoung. I know you’re not really up for anything exciting, especially in a foreign country, but for your own sake, try to live a little. You know you won’t be able to find inspiration stuck in your room for 2 months. Plus, I think your grandma would want you to explore the city she gushed about so much.” 

Doyoung inhaled sharply, not expecting Ten to mention his grandmother. He wasn’t surprised though, because Ten was, yet again, right. His grandmother was the whole reason he was spending the summer in Paris. After her illness made her grow weaker and weaker the previous year, Doyoung could not deny that her time was coming to an end. One day, she had called Doyoung into her room to talk to him alone.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_“Doyoung, come sit next to me,” his grandmother said. Doyoung sat on the hospital bed next to her, looking anywhere but at her face. He knew if he looked into her eyes he wouldn’t be able to hold his composure._

_“Bunny, look at me,” his grandmother said quietly. At hearing the nickname, he reluctantly looked up at her, being met with a fond look on her face. His eyes burned. He blinked rapidly, trying to will the tears away. His grandmother was his best friend, and he couldn’t bear to realize that she’ll be gone soon._

_She took his hands, holding them in her shaking ones. “I have something to give you,” she said, letting go of Doyoung’s hands to reach into the drawer of the bedside table. Doyoung looked on in question, wondering what kind of gift his grandmother could give him. Nothing could prepare him for what he saw her take out of the drawer._

_“Your recipe journal,” he breathed. Voice cracking on the last note. It took even more of his strength now not to burst into tears and crush his grandmother in a hug. “But, why?” He whispered._

_“Bunny, do you remember the stories I told you when you were younger? Of my time in Paris?” She held the journal in her hands, caressing the distressed leather that adorned the cover._

_Doyoung cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was stubbornly stuck at the back of his mouth. “Of course I do. They were my favorite stories to listen to as a child. You met grandfather in Paris when you went to pursue cooking. You fell in love and started this journal with all the recipes that remind you of him. I’ll never forget the stories. They’re the reason I want to be just like you.” During his tangent he hadn’t noticed that small, longing smile that formed on his grandmother’s face, and her eyes turning glassy with memories. She looked down at the book in her hands, full of memories of a different time. A book telling her own love story._

_“Yes,” she chuckled, “those stories.” She hesitated for a moment, then with a small shake of her head, placed the journal into Doyoung’s hands. She kept her hands on top of the book as it lay in Doyoung’s hands. “I want you to take this journal Doyoung. I know my time will be up soon. It gives me relief knowing I can give this to you for you to complete with your own love story. I never expected you to take the same path as me when I told you those stories, but it makes me overjoyed to see you share the same love I have for food.”_

_Doyoung didn’t know when, but he had started crying, silent tears falling down his cheeks as he listened to his grandmother’s words. She was giving him her journal. Her most prized possession._

_“Bunny.” He looked up at her through his tears. She brought one of her hands up to caress the side of his face, thumb rubbing his cheekbone. “I want you to take this journal to make memories of your own. I know how you don’t like to get into serious relationships and I can’t help but think it’s partially my fault. Your mother told me you’re so obsessed with my fairy tale that you want the same thing.” Doyoung blushed, not wanting to admit the truth. It was true that he had such high standards for his partners because of his childhood spent listening to his grandmother’s stories about her and his grandfather._

_“I hope this journal will help show you the tremendous things food can do for you, and the amount of love that can be shared between two people. Find your person, Bunny, but take your time. I think part of the reason I got so swept up with your grandfather at first was because of the magic of Paris. I hope you can one day experience it too. Even now, I only wish to go back one last time, and watch the sunset atop the Eiffel tower with the one I love the most.” Now she was crying alongside Doyoung, but Doyoung had a feeling her tears held a slightly different meaning to her._

_Doyoung took hold of her hands. “Thank you, grandmother. I’ll go to Paris. For you. I’ll experience everything the city has to offer, and maybe I can find what I’ve been searching for all these years. The thing that you found there all those years ago.” She gave him a knowing smile and squeezed his hands._

_“Remember, Doyoung. Find your own thing. Don’t fixate on what I had. You’re an independent soul, but I know deep down what you desire most is comfort and trust. You’ll have your own version of love, and you’ll have your own fairytale ending, with a partner or without.”_

_Doyoung considered his grandmother’s words. He loved the stories he was told as a child, but she was right. He wanted the chance to find his own version of whatever his grandmother had. Maybe he was just afraid he couldn’t be as happy for as long as she was. Whatever it was, he knows dedicating himself to finding the exact love his grandmother had is not what she would have wanted. It still wouldn’t stop him from dreaming for such a thing though._

_He looked at the journal in his lap, having heard about all the stories it contains, but he never got the chance to read the secrets it probably holds. Nobody except his grandmother and grandfather had ever seen what was inside, making it all the more precious to Doyoung. It would be her last gift to him.. He would treasure it forever._

_He gave his grandmother one last hug, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes after he pulled away. He smiled tightly and slowly stood up, and turned to leave the room to give his mother time with her own mother. He didn’t hear what his grandmother said next._

_“Oh, bunny. You cannot find the thing you are searching for, it can only find you. I wish you the best, my bunny. That city holds a magic that I still miss to this day, and I hope you are swept away by it in your own way and find what you so desperately wish.”_

_His grandmother’s last words to him would end up being “Only write in it when the time is right Bunny. When you have found what you have been searching for.”_

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Doyoung looked down the journal resting neatly in his lap. He hadn’t dared to open it after his grandmother’s passing. He was afraid he would ruin the old pages with his tears once he read it. His grandmother will always remain in his heart, and he’ll keep her stories close to him forever. Now, he’s in Paris. The place of his grandmother’s fairytale, and he doesn’t know what to expect. He knows he won’t have what his grandparents had, and he doesn’t wish that upon himself. 

However, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking this trip might lead him to the thing he has been searching for almost half of his life. He doesn’t even know what that thing is, but he’s seen it. It’s the smile his grandmother wears whenever she tells Doyoung his favorite story. It’s her tone of voice talking about his grandfather. It’s the look his grandparents share when they are reminded of their Paris days. It’s what always made her food taste delicious that nothing could ever compare.

In all honesty, he’s been lost for years. Even before his grandmother’s passing, Doyoung’s life felt… incomplete. He doesn’t know if it was because he was still in school or whether it was because he devoted half his life to find something he couldn’t even name. He knew, and his grandmother always reminded him, that he shouldn’t focus so much on her story and try to find his own, but he could not help it. He’s always been the closest to his grandmother, and instead of playing with other kids as a child, he asked for his grandmother to retell him her stories. His whole identity is cooking, which he can also attribute to his grandmother. She held such a love for the world and food and being able to live her life freely with his grandfather was all she could’ve wanted.

Maybe Paris won’t just help him find what he’s been searching for, but help him find himself as well. But what if it wasn’t what he had hoped for?

He groaned in frustration, not knowing what he was feeling. He wished his grandmother was still alive so he could confide in her.

“Doyoung? Are you still there?” Ten started through the phone. 

Doyoung flinched, completely forgetting he was still on the phone. He wiped away the stray tear that escaped from his eye. “Yeah, yeah I’m still here.” He said quietly.

“Should I not have mentioned her?” Ten asked apologetically, his voice small. He was just worried about his best friend, Doyoung knew.

“No, it’s alright. You aren’t wrong. Maybe I should start thinking about her more. She would have wanted me to enjoy Paris to the fullest.” A fond smile grew on Doyoung’s face as he recalled more memories he had of his grandmother. He would be strong for her, and he would be strong for himself.

“Have a great time. I’m missing you already,” Ten said.

“Miss you too,” Doyoung replied.

Ten chuckled, “Don’t lie to me. I know you’re happy to not see me for two months.” 

Doyoung let out a breathy laugh. “Whatever. I gotta go. I just arrived at the place.”

“Okay, bye! Call me tomorrow.”

“We’ll see.”

“Rude.”

Doyoung hung up the phone, laughing at his best friend’s antics. He really would miss him while he was in Paris. Though finally living alone is a much-needed blessing, even if it just for a little while. He stepped out of the car after paying the driver. He thanked him as best as he could in French for retrieving his luggage out of the trunk, and just like that, he was alone on the street again. He turned around to look at the building before him. It was obviously an older building that had been restored to be more functional while still holding a vintage appeal. 

Doyoung took a deep breath and walked inside. His room was on the third floor, and since he could not find an elevator in sight, he resorted to hauling his large suitcase up the three flights himself. That short ascent reminded him just how unfit he actually was. Maybe he can start working out while he’s in Paris, but he laughed to himself because like hell he’s going to start working out.

After finally making it to his floor, Doyoung easily found his room and retrieved his keys from his bag and unlocked the door. When he opened the door, he was met with a silent apartment, the only noise being the wind lightly blowing through the balcony door, which was probably open so the apartment could be aired out. He had to remember to thank the landlord once he had a chance to settle in. He was already lucky enough to be able to rent out a place like this because the landlord is a lifelong friend of his grandmother, but he even gave Doyoung a discount. 

Walking inside, he looked around the small room. It consisted of a sitting area that included a small couch and an armchair sitting opposite a small TV, a dining area with a round table and metal chairs, a glass door that opened up to a personal balcony, as well as a kitchen off to the side. The kitchen was Doyoung’s only concern, however. The landlord graciously gave him the room that included the biggest kitchen, even if it wasn’t much besides all the basic appliances and a small island. The marble counters were obviously new and the appliances were all made of stainless steel. Doyoung wondered if the landlord had the kitchen redone for him specifically with how up to date it all looked. 

He closed the front door behind him and took off his shoes. He noticed the open door next to the sitting area that led to his bedroom. Inside was a queen-sized bed with a mahogany dresser on the opposite wall, two small bedside tables, and another door in the corner that most likely led to the bathroom. 

Tired from his trip and feeling jet lag take away his energy, Doyoung placed his suitcase down next to his bed and opened it up. He decided he’s going to take a nice, hot shower, change, and go to sleep, if just for a little bit. He knows he probably won’t be able to sleep that night since it was only 10 in the morning, but he couldn’t care less. He’ll unpack when he wakes up.

The bathroom was as nice as the kitchen, everything in there polished and modern. Doyoung took his time in the shower, letting the hot water drip down from his head to his feet. The constant stream of water soothed his aching muscles and relaxed his mind. After washing his hair and body, Doyoung got out of the shower and dried himself while picking out a pair of pajamas. Satisfied with his choice, he changed and jumped on the newly made bed, rustling up the sheets.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he let himself sink down into the large mattress. It was plush and soft, just how Doyoung liked it. He quickly got under the covers and let his mind drift to sleep, dreams filled with warm hugs and the sound of his grandmother’s voice.

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Doyoung woke up, the sunlight was already starting to dim from outside his window. The curtains were left open, so Doyoung could look out at the array of reds and oranges that painted the evening sky from his spot in bed.

Sitting up, he stretched his back, throwing his arms up while letting out a big yawn. He still felt extremely tired and worn out, but he knew he had to get up and do something. Lounging in bed wouldn’t do him any good.

Finding his phone on his bedside table, he picked it up to check the time, seeing it was half-past 7. Debating whether or not it was too late in the day to visit the landlord, Doyoung decided now was better than later. He got up and opened his suitcase once more, taking out a white t-shirt and his favorite pair of sweats. Changing quickly, he left his suitcase to be dealt with later and walked out of the apartment.

He went down the three flights of stairs and into the lobby. He remembered the lady at the front desk saying he could find the landlord in his room at the back of the building, so that was where Doyoung went.

Doyoung made his way to the back of the building, spotting the elevator along the way. It was hidden and couldn’t be found easily from the front doors. Doyoung absently thought about the very poor placement of the elevator when he finally found a door labeled “landlord” in English. 

He knocked on the door softly, taking a step back to wait patiently. Someone inside shouted something at him in French, but Doyoung sadly could not understand what he said. Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a short, skinny man with a neatly trimmed beard. His hair was brown, but there were noticeable streaks of white beginning to form at his crown. He looked younger than his probable age, which Doyoung guessed was around the same as his grandmother. He never met the landlord personally until now, but he knew the man was a very close friend of his grandmother. He couldn’t quite remember the man’s name though.

Upon seeing Doyoung, the man’s face instantly brightened. “Hello my boy,” he said in English. He probably assumed Doyoung knew English more than he did French, which was correct. Doyoung was very grateful for it too.

“Hello, nice to meet you,” he replied in English.

“You look just like her,” the man started, but now in Korean. Doyoung was shocked to see the Frenchman talk in Korean, not even processing the other’s words or noticing the longing look on his face. Doyoung belatedly realized that if the man was such a good friend of his grandmother, he might have learned Korean from being around her so often.

“You know Korean?” Doyoung said in his native tongue, face full of shock.

“Very little, but enough.” The man replied, giving Doyoung a bright smile. “However I think English works best for both of us.”

Doyoung thought about it for a moment and agreed. The man did not know enough Korean and Doyoung did not know enough French. English was a great middle for them both. He nodded and stepped inside the room at the man’s invitation. It was about the size of Doyoung’s own room, except the man had a bigger couch, as well as no balcony since they were on the ground floor.

“So,” the landlord said in English. “Why has Minhee’s precious grandson come to visit the city of love?” He gestured for Doyoung to take a seat at the dining table, which he did after silently thanking the man. Once he sat down, the man walked over to his kitchen and started preparing something, but Doyoung could not see what it was from his seat.

He didn’t know how to respond to that question. He knew he was there to search for what he has been for the last couple of years, and he also wanted to learn more about the city his grandma spent so much time in, but he didn’t know how to put that into words for a man he just met to understand. “I guess,” he started, still thinking, “I’m here to discover myself, while also trying to learn more about my grandmother from when she was younger.”

The man hummed. “Well I can always tell you any story about Minhee you would like to hear.” He replied, settling in the seat across from Doyoung after placing a tray full of pieces of bread and cheese in between them. Doyoung’s stomach growled loudly at the sight, and he ducked his head as he felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that moment. The man gestured for Doyoung to take as much as he’d like, and with a small nod, Doyoung started taking little bits of cheese and bread to eat.

“Sorry,” the man continued, as Doyoung started eating, “I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Louis. I met your grandmother when she first arrived here in Paris. My dad was the landlord for the building she lived in. Must run in the family huh?” Louis chuckled at his own joke. Doyoung would have laughed too, but he currently had a grape in his mouth, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself any further.

He had heard about Louis before. He was definitely not a stranger to his grandmother according to her stories and was mentioned at least once in every one. It seemed like the two of them were very close when they were younger. Doyoung smiled to himself, reminiscing about his grandmother for a moment. He felt that being able to meet Louis put him closer to his grandmother.

“My name is Doyoung,” he replied, once he was done collecting his thoughts, “but I assume you already knew that. I came by to thank you for the room and for giving me such a generous discount.” He bowed his head slightly in thanks. Louis let out another lighthearted laugh.

“Of course. Anything for Minhee’s family. I’m disappointed I could not attend her funeral, or meet her once again before she passed.” His face grew solemn. Doyoung’s face fell as he heard Louis talk about his grandmother’s passing. He felt bad because he could only imagine how close the two were in their younger days. “It’s alright though because I get to meet the boy she always gushed about in her letters after all these years. You definitely grew up nice, and you look just like her.”

Doyoung blushed, not knowing how to respond to the statement. His grandmother talked about him to her friends? He gave another small nod before returning to the plate of cheeses and bread. Louis let him enjoy the snacks for a minute or two, knowing the young man hadn’t eaten in a while.

“I don’t want to keep you since it’s getting late, but I have a feeling you already took a nap,” Louis stated, giving Doyoung a knowing look. Doyoung laughed nervously and could only shrug his shoulders. He stood up and inclined his head towards the door, which Doyoung took as his sign to leave.

“I’m glad you came down and it was lovely to finally meet you. Please stop by if you need anything. I’ll always be here to help.” He walked Doyoung to his front door and opened it for him.

Doyoung nodded firmly, following with a “Thank you so much,” before turning to leave. He gave one last bow and wave to Louis before exiting out of the room. Louis seemed like a very sweet old man, and Doyung was glad to finally be able to put a face to the name he had heard quite frequently as a child.

Taking the elevator up to his room this time, Doyoung noticed how it was one part of the building that was still very out of date. The buttons were old, barely lighting up, and there wasn’t even a screen that showed what floor he was on. The elevator also made a very concerning noise when it started up, shaking a little. It took almost five minutes just for Doyoung to ascend three floors. He decided he could go the rest of his stay without using the elevator again.

Safely back in his room after that fiasco of an elevator ride, Doyoung plopped down face first onto his bed. He didn’t even bother to change since he didn’t go outside. The sheets were still rustled from when he woke up from his nap, but he didn’t care. He was absolutely exhausted and did not want to get up for the next 10 hours. Which was exactly what he did. 

The sounds of Paris’ nightlife outside his window drifted him off to sleep.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you made it! I know nothing exciting happens in this chapter, but we need to world build! get the storyset up!
> 
> thank you for taking the time and read this, and please anticipate more soon.
> 
> HOW I PLAN TO UPDATE:  
> I am currently 3 chapters ahead, writing-wise. I plan to post the next chapter once I have written the latest chapter. write a chapter, post a chapter. This way, I will always have a little wiggle room and won't be too pressed for deadlines. I hope you all can understand! I don't plan to take more than 10 days between each chapter :)
> 
> please scream at me over this either in the comments, or my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/strwberrydo)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: these places actually exist in real life because I'm too dumb to come up with my own names. The descriptions are loosely based on photos I found and I am in no way connected to any of them :-).
> 
> I realize this definitely isn't a slow burn fic because I'm just not that kind of writer haha, but I have many plans for this fic so it might turn out longer than expected. Please anticipate everything!!
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> spotify playlist for the AU can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CftYwRgQdvpLgLbu0ONez?si=7MMLLVnIT0ONsBIniQKlBQ)

Waking up the next morning felt way more refreshing. Doyoung yawned lightly as he stood up and threw the covers off himself. He walked over to the window and looked out over the other buildings in his neighborhood, the Eiffel Tower off in the distance. The sun was still making its way over the horizon, its rays of light glittering low over the surface of the earth. The sky above him was a melting pot of blues with yellow rays from the sun slipping through. The darkness of the night faded away to allow the light blue of day to take its place. The stars went into their hiding places after glowing the whole night, waiting patiently for the next night to arrive, hidden far behind the sun. He noticed the moon on the other side of the sky, its outline becoming more transparent and unnoticeable as the sun rose further off the horizon, relieving the moon of its duties. Night owls slowly made their way off the streets and into their homes, the early birds taking their place, refreshed from a good night’s sleep.

Doyoung took a few steps away from the window before turning around and heading for his kitchen. His hair was a tousled mess, and his white shirt was crinkled from moving in his sleep. His sweatpants rested low on his hips, a thin sliver of pale skin peeking over the waistband. Taking another big yawn, Doyoung reached a hand under his shirt and scratched his stomach. He looked around his kitchen, checking out all of the appliances and cupboards. 

He realized too late that he did not go grocery shopping yesterday, so there wasn’t anything in the empty kitchen that he could use to make himself a sufficient breakfast. Sighing, Doyoung resigned to finding breakfast at some sort of cafe that day, but he wasn’t too disappointed at the prospect. After all, it gave him an excuse to splurge on coffee and pastries.

He started making his way back to the bedroom to change clothes when something by his front door caught his eye. Laying on the floor was a sealed white envelope. Doyoung scrunched up his nose in confusion and walked over to pick up the envelope. Someone obviously slipped it through the slot in his door, but he knew that all mail was delivered to the lobby where each patron had their own mailbox. So just who bothered to come all the way up to Doyoung’s room?

Now even more confused, Doyoung turned the envelope over in his hands, and all that was written on the front was _To Doyoung_ in a cursive font. _At least it wasn’t addressed to anyone else_ , he thought. Not wanting to think too much about the endless possibilities for the origin of the envelope, Doyoung stood up and took it to his bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he carefully opened the envelope and took out the crisp white paper that was tri-folded to neatly fit inside. Unfolding it, he saw it was a short letter along with a small picture that was tucked between the folds. He took a look at the small picture first, which depicted the street front view of a restaurant with the name _La Table De Colette_. The restaurant was clearly high end, Doyoung noticed, with meticulously placed potted plants lining the entranceway, sleek black doors surrounded by marble-esque walls, and classy gold lettering showcased on the minimalistic sign that hung above the entrance.

Doyoung would probably have a heart attack if he looked at the prices for just one appetizer. Curious, he placed down the picture next to him on the bed and directed his attention to the short handwritten letter that accompanied it. It was written in English, which Doyoung was thankful for. The handwriting was slanted and curved, though the letters themselves were small.

  
  


_Dear Doyoung,_

_I heard from Minhee how much an interest you showed in her life story and cooking from such a young age. I think it’s wonderful that she was able to influence somebody to love cooking as much as she did. I can definitely tell you all about Minhee outside the kitchen, but I have a feeling your trip might be related to your own cooking too. If you want to know about Minhee as a chef, visit_ La Table De Colette _. That was her first real job as a cook here in Paris. The current owner used to be her coworker. Her name is Alicia, and don’t worry, she speaks English. I think it’d be great for you two to have a chat. I attached a picture of the place as well as the address. Have a good day my boy._

_Louis._

  
  


An appreciative smile adorned Doyoung’s face as he picked the picture back up. He noticed an address written in the corner of the photo Louis’ handwriting. Louis was really doing so much for him, even though they only officially met the previous day. He couldn’t help but think of his grandmother. She always kept the best company and didn’t let ignorant or toxic people bring her down in life. He could clearly see that in her choice of a best friend, and admiration for her swelled in his heart. 

Doyoung decided there wouldn’t be any harm in paying Alicia a visit, especially since he didn’t have any other plans that day. If it had something to do with his grandmother, he wouldn’t pass up the chance, even if it was just a simple conversation. 

He thought of Alicia, the restaurant’s owner, and his grandmother’s former coworker. The name wasn’t too unfamiliar to him. Alicia must be of some importance if his grandmother mentioned her in her stories before. It would also be polite to stop in and introduce himself to her.

He looked up the restaurant on his cellphone, seeing that they didn’t open until 3 in the afternoon. It was currently 10 am, so Doyoung had plenty of time to grab breakfast and make his way over.

Sighing, he got up and went to get dressed, but not before washing up in the bathroom and fixing whatever the tornado that passed through his hair caused. 

Today’s outfit was a vertically striped buttoned-down shirt with short sleeves, the stripes alternating between light blue and white. He tucked the shirt into his favorite pair of light wash jeans that were marked with few rips and distresses. He grabbed his favorite metal chain and hung it around his neck, satisfied with the look.

It wasn’t supposed to get too humid during the day, so Doyoung felt comfortable with his outfit choice before gathering all of his stuff and closing the bedroom door behind him. He put on his black running shoes, double-checking he had his phone, keys, and wallet with the picture safely tucked between his cash, before heading out.

Walking out of his apartment, Doyoung heard a harsh slam of the door next to him. It seemed to come from his neighbor. Doyoung assumed the tenant just had a rough morning or was up all night and was now in a grumpy mood. He had been through that experience many times, so he didn’t judge the room occupant as he made his way past the door. Everyone was dealing with their own issues, he absentmindedly thought as he made his way to the staircase.

Once out of the apartment building, Doyoung checked how far the restaurant was from his location on his GPS. It was too far to walk there but was only a 10-minute metro ride. Deciding he would get breakfast first, Doyoung leisurely started walking towards the direction of the nearest metro station, looking out for a small cafe that could supply his concerning caffeine addiction.

After about 5 minutes of walking, Doyoung spotted a cafe on a street corner that seemed quaint and not too busy. When he got closer, he saw it was named _Cafe de Flore_ , and decided to check it out. 

It had an awning that curved around the entire corner cafe with a design that matched the pattern of Doyoung’s shirt. _Cute_ , he thought. There was a scattering of tables on the street, some under the shade of the awning and some resting in the late morning sunlight. He noticed a few people here and there occupying the seats at the tables, but it wasn’t enough to consider the place packed.

He walked up to the door and when he pushed it open a light jingle could be heard above his head, signaling that a customer walked in. He was met with faint jazz music playing from speakers in the ceiling. Inside as well, there were tables lined up against the windows, though most of those remained empty. There was a long glass case at the back of the cafe, displaying a wide range of French pastries and the like. On the wall was a chalkboard that had all the beverage options for customers written on it. It was all in French, but Doyoung could make out certain things like _Cafe au lait_ and _Cafe cr_ è _me_. The whole cafe had a very warm aura about it, the scent of coffee and fresh baked goods lingering in the air as Doyoung walked further inside. 

At the sound of the bell, a boy looked up from where he was sitting behind the counter. He looked young with big round eyes, but Doyoung guessed he was only a little younger than Doyoung himself. The boy stood up from his seat and smiled kindly at Doyoung. “Bonjour,” the boy said, waiting for Doyoung to order.

Doyoung glanced up at the board overhead and decided that going with something classic was the best option. In French, he asked, “Can I have one Cappucino and croissant please?”

The boy nodded and rang up his items. “4.5€,” he said politely, taking the bills from Doyoung’s hand and giving him his change back before turning to start making his drink and prepare his croissant.

Doyoung absentmindedly looked around the cafe while he waited, noticing the wood-paneled walls and floor tiles with different floral designs. 

“Your cappuccino sir,” he heard from behind him. Doyoung turned around to see the boy standing behind the counter and Doyoung’s order sitting on a tray before him, ready for Doyoung to take. 

“Merci,” he responded, bowing his head lightly before taking his drink and croissant to go find a place to sit. Spotting a round table with a single chair standing by the windows with no surrounding people, Doyoung walked over there and sat down with his breakfast. 

The familiar bitterness of the coffee sliding down his throat allowed Doyoung to sigh loudly in content. This would really help him wake up. He looked on at the cars passing by outside and at people going for a late morning stroll. He didn’t even notice the person that was standing next to his table patiently.

When he turned his head, he noticed it was the boy from the counter. Confused, Doyoung lifted his eyebrows in question.”May I help you?” He tried his best to pronounce in French.

“Are you perhaps Korean?” The boy asked, looking very shy, scratching the back of his head and looking at the floor instead of Doyoung. 

The question was surely a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. “Yes,” he replied. At that, the boy lit up and pulled up a chair from a nearby table to sit next to Doyoung.

“Really? Oh my gosh, that’s so awesome.” The boy started, now speaking animatedly in Korean. “I know this is weird, but I haven’t met another Korean since my time in France and well, when I saw you, I got kind of excited.” He blushed and rubbed the back of his head again, laughing nervously.

Doyoung thought it was cute, and smiled sweetly at the boy. He understood the feeling of not being able to comfortably converse with someone in your native language, especially in a foreign country. 

“My name is Mark by the way,” The boy, Mark, continued. “What’s yours?”

“Doyoung,” he responded, picking his cup up to take another small sip of his coffee before it got too cold.

Mark nodded, “That’s a nice name! Did you just move to France?”

Normally Doyoung would be annoyed by someone interrupting his breakfast, but Mark radiated such innocent and pure energy he didn’t have it in him to feel bombarded by the boy’s questions. “Yes, but I’m only here for the summer. I live in Seoul.”

Mark’s face lit up, “Me too! I’m in Paris for a 2-year long internship. It’s already been a year and I miss home so much,” he sulked in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Doyoung had to stifle a laugh because the other looked so adorable when he pouted.

“By the way,” Doyoung started, taking another sip of his drink, “How old are you?”

Mark stared at him wide-eyed. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’m 21. Is it too late to start calling you Hyung?” He was so apologetic Doyoung couldn’t help from smiling again. Who was this kid?

“It’s not too late to start, don’t worry,” he smiled kindly, “I’m 24.”

Mark nodded again, a relieved smile clear on his face. “So, can I ask why you are in Paris for the summer Hyung?”

“Very intrusive, aren’t you?” Doyoung asked, smirking slightly when Mark immediately spluttered to try and apologize.

“I’m sorry I just assumed… well- I-... sorry,” He stumbled, not forming a coherent sentence. Doyoung thought it was adorable. Even if they had just met, Doyoung wouldn’t mind getting to know Mark and maybe have a Korean friend to talk to during his time here.

“I was only messing with you,” he smiled mischievously, but it softened when he saw the look of relief on Mark’s face and how he pouted. “I’m just here for travel. Always wanted to visit and all that jazz,” he finished.

Mark nodded his head, understanding. He didn’t press any further than that, probably too scared to upset Doyoung again. They sat in silence as Doyoung enjoyed his breakfast, and after a little while another customer walked through the front doors of the cafe and Mark had to get up to go and take their order.

Doyoung resumed his breakfast while returning his attention back to the outside world. He let his mind drift and go blank for the first time since he arrived. He hasn’t been able to relax in a long time, not since his grandmother’s passing, everything just becoming too much for him. This small little bubble of comfort and relaxation was truly a blessing.

After a little while, Doyoung finished both his coffee and his croissant but wasn’t ready to leave quite yet. He checked his watch and read that it was only fifteen minutes past 11 am. He still had time to slowly make his way to Alicia’s restaurant.

Mark came back after tending to a few more customers, and instead of sitting down again, he slipped a paper before Doyoung.

“My number,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. _Definitely a nervous habit_ , Doyoung lazily thought, “If you aren’t already repulsed by me.”

Doyoung laughed lightly. “Trust me, it’s very easy for something to repulse me, and you haven’t done that… yet.” He added yet at the end just to see the cute little nose scrunch Mark did when he blushed and felt sheepish. He took the paper and put it inside his wallet, while also taking out a few euros and placing them on the table. “For your trouble,” he said at Mark’s questioning gaze.

Before Mark had the chance to protest, Doyoung gave him a small wave and made his way out the cafe, continuing his walk to the metro stop. Mark was definitely a nice boy, and he wouldn’t mind having someone else to talk to besides Ten. Which reminded him… 

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, Doyoung found his best friend’s contact and hit the button to dial. After two rings, his best friend picked up.

“Hey! How’s your first morning in Paris?” came Ten’s voice from the other side of the line, as cheerful as ever. Doyoung couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s alright. Just got some breakfast at a cafe and met a cute Korean boy,” Doyoung responded, walking at a slow pace to bask in the late morning sun.

“A cute boy you say?,” Ten said in a suggestive tone. Doyoung rolled his eyes, knowing his best friend was probably making some obscene face on the other side.

“It’s not like that. Cute in a dongsaeng kind of way. He was so excited to find out I was Korean and said he didn’t have any Korean friends in France so…” Doyoung explained, letting his words drop at the end. It sounded stupid even to his ears, but there wasn’t any other way to explain it. He wasn’t here to find romance anyways. God knows he couldn’t handle a casual fling.

“I see, I see, but you never know. You always had a thing for ‘Cute’ boys,” Ten said, and Doyoung could clearly picture the look that was probably evident on his best friend’s face. He inwardly groaned.

“Shut up Ten,” he grumbled, hearing his best friend practically cackle on the other side of the line. In the distance, he saw the sign for the metro stop. “I’m about to get into the metro, so I won’t have any service there. I’ll talk to you another time.”

“Fine, fine, but you aren’t avoiding this conversation. Bye!”

He hung up the phone, slightly shaking his head. How did he get stuck with such a friend as Ten? The guy was so eccentric Doyoung would normally never actively become friends with him, but they were here now, somehow. Best friends who lived together. And honestly? Doyoung wouldn’t have it any other way. A small smile sat on his face as he thought back to his first meeting with Ten all those years ago, in their second year of high school.

He walked down the stairs to the metro, reminiscing about many things as he got onto the appropriate train to take him to his destination.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Seeing the restaurant in a picture was one thing, but actually standing before it was an entirely different experience. He looked down at the small photo in his hand again, knowing he was in the right place, but suddenly regretting he ever came. The small photo could not do this place justice.

It was absolutely stunning. The marble-esque walls shined brightly, while the sleek black of the doors glittered in the now early afternoon sun. The potted plants lining the entryway were simmering with life, all the flowers in full bloom and bushes neatly trimmed to match each other. Even the sidewalk on the property looked cleaner than the sidewalk just 10 feet down the street.

The sign glared at him harshly, daring him to enter. Most of the lights were off inside except for in the back, where Doyoung guessed were probably the kitchens. He assumed the owner would be there, as it was only a few hours before opening, but he still felt guilty for showing up at a time like this.

He also felt dramatically underdressed, his striped shirt and ripped jeans no wear near classy enough for an establishment such as that. Sighing, he pushed all the stupid thoughts out of his head and walked up to the door. He knew it was stupid, but his hand still reached for the handle to see if the door was unlocked. He definitely did not expect it to actually be open. _That could be a major security issue_ , he thought hastily.

Very nervously, he opened the door just enough so he could poke his head through and look around. 

“Hello?” he called out in English tentatively, very scared he'll be faced with an intruder and would have to start running for his life. Not like he’d be able to get any far before the intruder would catch him, anyways. He was not exactly what one would call “in shape”. So what if he didn’t like to exercise and liked to eat a lot? He was an overworked culinary student for god's sake.

Shaking his head and saving his thoughts for later, Doyoung looked around the place again. “Hello?” he called again, not sure what else to do. He was two seconds away from just booking it and giving up, not wanting his pretty face to be ruined by some criminal.

Who is he kidding? He doesn’t have a pretty face.

“Are you going to stand there with your head poked through the door like that forever or are you going to come inside and have a seat?” came a voice from the distance in English. Doyoung jumped, feet already ready to take off at any sign of danger. However, in his state of hooded judgment, he recognized the distant voice to be female.

“Alicia?” He said, unsure of himself.

“Who else would leave the door open for you?” From the only lit room in the back of the restaurant emerged an older woman with a glass of what appeared to be wine in her left hand. She was dressed in business attire and stared at Doyoung with a smirk on her face, right hand on her hip. “So? Care to step inside?”

Doyoung could only stare dumbly, not really knowing what to do. Okay, so maybe he was expecting some six-foot brute with a bat to come hammering at him, but that was just his wild imagination taking its course. He needed to get a grip, of course, Alicia would be the one in the restaurant instead of a random criminal.

“Uhm,” he started, “the door was unlocked so I…” He fully stepped inside the restaurant, closing the door behind him.

“Yes, I’m aware of that. You know you’re really timid for someone supposedly related to Minhee Kim,” Alicia stated, striding over to a nearby wall and flipping a few switches to brighten the entire dining room. “Louis told me you’d be coming, so I left the door open for you.”

Doyoung inwardly chastised himself. Of course, that was the reason why the door was open. He really had to stop watching crime shows. He felt sheepish for even thinking differently. Directing his attention towards Alicia, he noticed that she had such a powerful aura that he couldn’t quite grasp in the dark.

She stood in a dark grey pantsuit with a white linen shirt underneath her jacket, and a pair of nude heels to match. Her hair was up in a messy bun, probably because she was just working if Doyoung had to guess. She looked not a day over 50, and Doyoung was appalled at how youthful her skin looked from where he was. She had high cheekbones and thin but defined lips. Her eyes were cat-shaped and a deep blue color, lids adorned with light eyeliner and lashes with volumizing mascara. Her eyebrows were straight with a subtle arch forming at the end, perfectly framing her eyes. Her brunette hair had slight strands of greys, but they seemed to only add to her beauty. She wore small pearl earrings and a thin silver necklace with a charm that Doyoung couldn’t distinguish. Her legs were long and slim, looking like a model in her suit pants.

“I don’t look my age do I?” She suddenly said, springing Doyoung out of his thoughts. He blushed when he realized he had been staring, and looked at the ground. “It’s alright. I get that a lot. One of the things I pride myself in is taking care of myself while also doing my best at work.” 

From his vague memory of her in his grandmother’s stories, Doyoung guessed she was somewhere in her late sixties. His grandmother was 74 when she passed, and Alicia was a couple of years younger than her, from what he could remember about her from the stories.

“You look very good,” Doyoung said bashfully, not really knowing what else to say. He also didn’t know what to do with his hands as he awkwardly stood in front of Alicia.

“Louis said you looked like her but I didn’t realize just how much,” she said wistfully, taking a couple of steps to properly stand in front of Doyoung. With her heels, they were about the same height, with Doyoung still being half an inch taller.

Doyoung picked his head up to look at her. He didn’t know how to respond. Louis said the same thing when he first met them. Should he say thank you? Sorry? Cool? He was definitely reading too much into this.

“Uhh,” he started, glancing around nervously, “Louis said you could tell me more about my grandmother?”

She looked away from Doyoung. “Well yes, but I don’t really see the point in telling you much.” She turned around to go sit at the bar placed at the back of the dining room, signaling Doyoung to follow. On the counter were an opened bottle of wine and another empty glass.

“Excuse me?” Doyoung asked, following her and sitting next to her two seats over.

“What I mean is,” she explained, picking up the bottle to start pouring Doyoung a glass, “you probably grew up being surrounded by Minhee’s cooking and her stories, correct? She always loved to cook for others and had a knack for storytelling. I’m sure you could tell me your fair share of things about her too.”

He had to admit, she wasn’t wrong. Doyoung had memorized every detail about his grandmother, having been attached to her from such an early age. While the other kids wanted to become astronauts and cowboys, all Doyoung wanted to be was just like his grandmother.

“Plus,” she continued after giving Doyoung the glass of wine, which he took with a small thanks, “I don’t think you need to know much about the Minhee you didn’t grow up with, contrary to what you might think. I met a different Minhee than you did. I met the one at the start of her future, with nothing stopping her and nobody to stand by her side. You met the Minhee that experienced what it’s like to live and find the person she wanted to cook for forever. They’re two different people, but they’re both still Minhee.” She took a sip of her wine. “But what’s the point in trying to know so much about Minhee when she was younger? Was the Minhee you knew not good enough for you? Do you need to relive her story before you finally have one of your own?”

Doyoung looked at her with shock. What was she saying, of course, his grandmother was good enough for him. She gave him a knowing look and he had to tell himself to calm down.

He took a minute to think about what Alicia said. He realized she wasn’t wrong, to an extent. They both knew his grandmother, just at different points in her life. But was it so wrong to want to know more about the person his grandmother was before he was born? Maybe he was just being overly obsessed with his grandmother’s story and was it somehow hindering him? That was impossible. He loved his grandmother and just wanted to know more about her. She was his hero and inspiration after all.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Alicia said softly, “‘What’s wrong with wanting to know more about the Minhee I didn’t know?’ And I understand your feelings. You want to feel closer to her, especially now that she’s gone.”

Doyoung took a sip of his wine, looking down at the deep red liquid rippling lightly in the glass. He listened intently to Alicia as she continued because he realized that maybe his attachment was slightly blinding his judgment.

“Minhee kept in contact with all of her friends from Paris after she moved back to Korea. That’s why both Louis and I knew a lot about you before we met you. It’s safe to say I can understand what you’re going through. Even up until her last letter, she would always find a way to praise you.” She laughed lightly, taking another sip of her wine. “Reminds me of all the flings I’ve had in my life. I wonder what it’s like to settle down with someone like Minhee did…”

“Why didn’t you?” Doyoung asked, “If you don’t mind me asking,” he added.

Alicia gave him a smile. “I’m not like Minhee. I never felt that connection with someone. The kind of feeling that makes you want to stay with them forever. I’ve always been too busy for proper romance anyways.”

Doyoung nodded slightly. Alicia felt silent for a moment, her eyes searching the dark liquid in her glass.

“Doyoung…” she said softly. Doyoung looked on at her. She raised her head so that her eyes met his.

“Minhee was a good woman. Probably the best among us all. Frankly, it pained me to hear that she had passed and I couldn’t visit her while she was still alive,” her voice was solemn, full of regret, and another emotion Doyoung couldn’t pinpoint.

“You’re here looking for something. Whether it’s information about your grandmother or something within yourself, I don’t know. What I do know is, this path of yours isn’t going forward. We all love Minhee and miss her, but if your intention is to try and recreate a precious moment in time, you’ll only be met with disappointment. Some things are better left in the past, with the memories cherished by those who experienced it. It’s one thing to love the story, Doyoung, but don’t try to _live_ it.” She stared into Doyoung’s eyes, trying to convey what she was feeling.

Doyoung stared at her, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. He wasn’t _trying_ to live his grandmother’s story… was he? He scrunched his nose, this conversation just adding to his confusion.

“Don’t overthink it, Doyoung. You’re going through a confusing time, and it’s okay to be confused. I just want you to keep what I said in mind.” She placed a hand on Doyoung’s knee, squeezed it before pulling off. She quickly finished the rest of her glass of wine and stood up. Doyoung looked back at his own half-filled glass and decided he didn’t want anymore. His stomach was suddenly in a dozen knots, and he didn’t think alcohol would help in any way.

“Moving on from that touchy subject,” Alicia continued, “Are you going to leave, or do you want to do something fun for the next few hours?” She asked him from where she was standing. Doyoung looked up at her confused and was met with a smirk and glimmering eyes. 

He thought about it for a moment, and honestly, a distraction would do him well. He would already be sitting in his apartment for the next couple of days, so it’d be nice to get himself moving.

“What would we be doing?” He asked, and he realized a little too late why Alicia was smiling so wide when she dragged him into the kitchens. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did anyone think this was going to be a DoMark fic for a few seconds there???  
> me too, honestly, when I was writing. But no, Doyoung is just whipped for Mark, as we all should be.
> 
> another disclaimer: I'm taking honorifics very loosely, as well as the divide between languages. You probably won't see any more French than "bonjour" and "merci". thank you all for understanding!
> 
> the next update might take a little longer since I'm about to finish school and need to wrap everything up. I'll be back soon!
> 
> as always, I love reading comments! my twitter is @strwberrydo


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back a little earlier than planned! I hope you're all still here and as excited for this chapter as I am!
> 
> We are meeting someone ~very important~ today ;)
> 
> I did a quick read-through of this chapter before posting so it might not be the best grammar wise, sorry in advance.
> 
> As always, enjoy!!
> 
> playlist for the AU can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CftYwRgQdvpLgLbu0ONez?si=vdmXq33YSC-c_Ge_mgIXcw)

Opening the door to his apartment, Doyoung hunched over his doorway, tiredly taking off his shoes and placing them neatly on the rack. He closed the door behind him and practically crawled to his couch. He plopped down on it face first, groaning softly into the plush cushions.

When he agreed to help Alicia, he did not expect to be dragged into prepping ingredients for lunch and dinner, and he was definitely not expecting her to convince him to be a prep cook the entire night. His right hand was cramping severely. He hadn’t handled a knife for that long since his internship last summer.

Turning his head so he could breathe and look around him, he took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time.

_1:25 am_

_2 missed calls:_ Ten

 _1 missed message from_ Ten _: when you see this call me_

What did Ten want? Doyoung decided he would call him in the morning, as it was way too late to deal with whatever Ten needed help with.

Alicia had him working for twelve hours, and it was safe to say Doyoung was exhausted. He would have to rethink just how friendly she was. But then again, the things she said made a lot of sense, even if they left Doyoung even more confused than before.

Groaning, Doyoung reluctantly got up off of the couch, which took almost all of his energy. His feet were killing him from running around and standing the whole afternoon as well as his shoulders from hunching over the cutting board. 

Massaging his right palm lazily, Doyoung made his way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower. He peeled his clothes off slowly and stepped into the stream of water.

The hot water felt good on his aching muscles, and he let out a sigh of relief. 

After staying in the shower for a couple of minutes, Doyoung shut off the water and grabbed a towel off the rack next to him. He wrapped it around his waist and grabbed another towel to dry his hair. He walked back into his bedroom, the entire room dark except the moonlight filtering in through the open curtains.

Going over to his bedside table, he switched on the lamp that sat there, the warm light lighting up that small part of the room. His phone was resting on the table, plugged into his charger. He picked it up and checked a couple of his messages. It was currently 1:40 am, which means it was 8:40 am in Korea. He knew Ten was an early riser but was now a good time to call him?

He felt a little more awake after his shower and reasoning there wouldn’t be a better time to do it, he tapped the call button on Ten’s contact. The phone only rang twice before the other picked up.

“Thank _God_ you finally called, wait why are you up? Isn’t it like 2 am over there?” Ten started from the other line. Doyoung walked over to his dresser and picked out a pair of pajamas while silently thanking his past self for unpacking his suitcase before he left the apartment that morning. He placed the phone atop the dresser and put it on speaker mode as he changed.

“I was doing something for someone, why did you need me to call? Talking to me every day isn’t enough?” Doyoung teased, yawning lightly as he finished putting his pajamas on. He threw his used towel onto a nearby chair, not really caring about dirty laundry at the moment.

“Doing something for someone? Is that code for you finally taking my advice and getting yourself laid?” Doyoung rolled his eyes, not wanting to deal with Ten’s suggestive jokes when he was this tired.

“Very funny,” he replied, grumbling as he grabbed the phone off the dresser and brought it up to his ear again. Padding over to the bed, he sat on the edge of the mattress, stretching one arm over his head. His eyes felt cloudy and his lids felt droopy. “Are you going to tell me why you wanted me to call or…?”

“Oh! Right. Sorry,” Ten said, chuckling a little. “Remember when you told me to keep track of the building space next to the bar and to tell you if it ever happened to go on sale?”

Doyoung didn’t process Ten’s words right away in his tired state, but after a couple of long seconds, his eyes shot open.

“It’s on sale?” He asked, the shock clear in his voice.

“Just went on sale yesterday. Johnny said there haven’t been many offers on it yet. This is your chance Doyoung.” He ended softly. Doyoung could hear the excitement in his voice though, which made his own heart speed up in rhythm.

Doyoung looked ahead, not knowing what to do. Of all the things, he was not expecting to hear that. The empty space which he had so desperately wanted to buy for _years_ was finally up for sale. The place he desperately wanted to make his own to turn into a Parisian styled restaurant, for his grandmother. It was on sale.

“I can’t believe this. What should we do? Should I get a flight back home?” Doyoung asked, not really knowing what to do now that his dream could soon become a reality. It was surreal. He quickly stood up and walked back over to his dresser, completely ready to forget about Paris and go back home.

“No, stay in Paris, Enjoy yourself. I talked to Johnny and your parents and we decided we’re going to sign the lease for it later today.”

Doyoung stopped as he grabbed a handful of clothes in his free hand. He covered his mouth with his hand, eyes tearing up. “Are you serious?” He whispered.

“Of course I’m serious. I know how much that place means to you and I won’t just sit here and watch it get taken just because you’re in France.”

“Have I ever told you how much I like you?” Doyoung said, his voice shaking slightly. He can’t believe Ten was doing this for him. He had such a great best friend.

“With how little you tell me sometimes I wonder if you secretly hate me,” his best friend laughed. “Now go to sleep. I’ll text you more details later.”

Doyoung could only nod, bringing the phone away from his ear after he heard Ten hang up. He couldn’t believe this was happening. It was all too fast. When he got home he’d have the restaurant space he’d been wanting for well over 2 years. Was this a dream?

He got under the covers slowly and shut off the lamp, drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Doyoung woke up the next morning half expecting the previous night’s events to turn out to be entirely fictional. It was only when he checked his phone and saw Ten sent him a selfie with Johnny and the lease for the space held up in his hands, signed under Doyoung’s mom’s name, that he really believed it was real. 

He could make his restaurant a reality. It was really happening.

Doyoung went through his morning routine with a newly found vigor. He still hadn’t bought groceries for his kitchen yet, so he just made himself a cup of coffee with the instant blend that Alicia gifted him. It was Italian roast and tasted divine.

Doyoung drank his coffee on his small balcony, taking a seat in the metal chair that faced the buildings of Paris. In the distance, he saw the Eiffel Tower in all its glory and pondered when he would take a day to visit it. It was definitely on his list of things to do. Which reminded him.

He grabbed his grandmother’s journal from where it lay still on his bedside table. He still hadn’t dared to open it. Caressing the leather and having a silent debate, Doyoung put the journal down and took out his own notebook from his backpack. 

Settling back on the chair outside, Doyoung opened the notebook and started writing random ideas and ingredients down. Spending the entire night at Alicia’s restaurant introduced him to so many new recipes and ways to prep food that he felt inspired to write them down.

Satisfied with how much he wrote, he placed the book on the table next to him and finished his cup of coffee. Although he loved the burn of the hot liquid as it ran down his throat, he needed something to eat. He hadn’t had a meal since he was at Alicia's restaurant.

Doyoung thought about what he could do and decided the best plan would be to stop by _Cafe de Flore_ to get some early lunch before heading off to do grocery shopping, that way he didn’t spend all of his money on eating out. 

He quickly changed and walked out of his apartment. He wondered if the boy he met yesterday was working today. Mark, was it?

Doyoung took the familiar route down the street once he left his apartment building. After only a few minutes he spotted the familiar tables that accompanied the street front of the cafe. When he got there, the cafe was considerably more busy than it was the prior day. Doyoung had come at an earlier time, after all.

As he walked in, the sound of the chime above the door was lost against the busy atmosphere inside. People were chatting in french animatedly, some at tables with their drinks, others against the far wall waiting for their drinks to be made. There were only two people in front of him in line, so it wasn’t a long wait before he was met with a familiar face.

Mark’s face immediately lit up when he recognized Doyoung.

“Doyoung hyung! I didn’t expect you back so soon,” he started in Korean, “What would you like today?” he asked.

“I think I’ll try a muffin today,” he replied. He couldn’t help but smile at Mark’s enthusiasm. The boy was so excited at the prospect of gaining another friend in Paris, it warmed Doyoung’s icy heart.

“Sure thing, what kind would you like?” He asked, and then proceeded to list off the different flavors that the cafe had. Doyoung wasn’t really paying attention. He didn’t really care what kind of muffin he got, but it was cute to see Mark list off the flavors from memory with ease.

“What do you recommend?” Doyoung asked after Mark was done because frankly, he couldn’t make a decision.

“Well, our blueberry muffins are probably the best. They always sell out the quickest. We actually only have one left, would you like it?” He slightly leaned over the cash register, glancing to his side before looking back at Doyoung.

“That sounds good,” Doyoung responded, already taking out his wallet. Mark stood up straight with glee, and called out something in French Doyoung couldn’t quite distinguish. He handed Mark the appropriate amount of money and waited for Mark to get him his change.

After a couple of seconds, a brown-haired boy with glowing tan skin waltzed over to where Mark was standing and placed a brown paper bag on the counter in front of Doyoung.

He then slipped his arm around Mark’s shoulder and said, in Korean, “if you're done flirting with the customer Mark hyung, I need your help in the back,” while looking straight at Doyoung. At that, a bright blush formed on Mark’s cheeks and he turned his head away from Doyoung.

“That’s not what I… I wasn’t” Mark mumbled, his cheeks becoming rosier by the second. The brunette next to him only laughed and ruffled Mark’s hair, cooing at him while making a kissy face.

“I just like to see you blush. But seriously, I need your help,” he finished, before swiftly turning around and walking towards what Doyoung assumed was “the back”.

“Uhh,” he started, cautiously picking up the brown paper bag that contained his muffin.

“Don’t mind Donghyuck, he just likes to tease me. A lot” Mark humphed, but Doyoung caught the return of his blush and the flittering smile that ghosted his lips. Interesting.

“It’s alright,” Doyoung replied, giving Mark one last smile and a wave before exiting the cafe with his muffin. 

He decided to eat while he walked to the grocery store, which was only a couple blocks away according to Doyoung’s GPS. 

He took the muffin out of the bag, and after carefully pulling back the paper, he took a small bite of the treat, a satisfied hum leaving his lips. They definitely were delicious, it was no wonder they sold out.

A small park came into view as Doyoung walked, and he looked on at the manmade path surrounded by lush green grass and scattered wooden benches. There were a couple of people on walks, and he noticed an outdoor cafe on the far side, stationed next to a semi-large pond, with white geese lazily swimming across the surface.

Doyoung looked down at his muffin then at the park, and decided, why not?

He strolled into the park and onto the path, taking in the views around him. There were a few trees here and there, most of them closer to the pond. Tall, hanging street lights rested on the edge of the path, evenly spaced between each other.

Spotting an empty bench that faced the distant pond, Doyoung took a seat with his muffin and crossed his legs, looking on at the geese swimming along the pond. He lazily ate his muffin and rested his head on his hand, which was holding the empty brown bag, letting his mind wander. A warm summer breeze flowed through his hair, messing up the strands. He made a move to smooth his hair, but another gust of wind blew the bag out of his hand and a little ways down the path. He quickly stood up and ran after it before it could be blown away again. He was not about to be a culprit to littering.

Of course, right before he could grab the bag, the wind blew it even further away from him. He huffed and groaned, taking off again. He felt stupid, chasing after a paper bag like this, but what else was he supposed to do when the wind obviously hated him and had it out for him?

Right before he could catch the bag again, he lost his footing and half fell on the ground, landing on his knees and his elbows. He wiped the dirt off his elbows, and when he looked up he saw there was somebody stepping on his paper bag, stopping it from being taken by the wind again. Said person was wearing customized white sneakers, the front and sides covered in different colors and designs.

Quickly realizing his compromising position, Doyoung stood up and dusted off his knees. He noticed the other man had leaned down to pick up the brown paper bag.

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung said in what broken French he could muster, continuing to dust the dirt away from his pants. 

“It’s okay,” the other replied, and when Doyoung finally picked his head up to meet the other’s eyes, the only thought that registered in his brain was that he would have to thank the wind.

The man standing before him was, _breathtaking_ , to say the least. He had light brown hair that was borderline blonde, soft skin, and an even softer smile. His lips were plump and beautifully pink, and his eyes were dark and almond-shaped. He had high cheekbones, and his jaw was well defined, which contradicted his innocent appearance. 

Doyoung could instantly tell the man was Asian, and a big part of him hoped he was Korean. He realized he was staring and blinked rapidly, looking back down at his feet. He fixed his hair and laughed nervously.

“Thank you,” he said in English, looking up at the _beautiful_ man expectedly, hoping he would get the message.

“It’s no problem,” he replied, in English thankfully, giving Doyoung his paper bag back. Doyoung took it with a small nod of his head. “I’m Taeyong, by the way.”

Okay, a Korean name, that was a good sign. “I’m Doyoung,” he said, giving a sheepish smile.

“Hey Doyoung, this may seem forward of me but,” Taeyong started, and he picked up the camera that was resting around his neck. Doyoung hadn’t noticed that before. “Would you want to model for me?”

“What?” Doyoung subconsciously said out loud, not processing the other’s question. It was kind of worth it though to see Taeyong give him a bright smile full of teeth.

“I’m a photographer, and I’m currently working on my first photo exhibition. It’s titled _Single Tourism: Solo Travel in Paris_. I’m taking pictures of different people who traveled to Paris alone,” he explained, already taking out his phone to show Doyoung his portfolio. He tilted the phone in Doyoung’s direction, which showcased the photographer’s Instagram, where Doyoung could see a bunch of his photos. “I think you would be great for it.”

The photos were absolutely stunning. They were a good mix between people and scenery, but Doyoung could clearly feel the energy that radiated from each photo. It was so obvious that Taeyong brought life to his photos, and Doyoung was in awe. No one photo stood out because they all had their own powerful aura surrounding them, each telling a different story.

“Why me?” He asked, “Who’s to say I don’t live in Paris and I’m not a tourist?” He looked up at Taeyong, who he noticed was already looking back at him.

“With your French skills, I assumed you haven’t been here long,” he laughed, one hand on his phone, one hand in his pocket. 

Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows, nose scrunching, a slight blush forming on his cheeks. His French wasn’t _that_ bad. He huffed and rolled his eyes, directing his attention back to the photos displayed on the phone screen.

“Anyways,” he gruffed, not knowing how to continue the conversation. “I don’t really think I’m the right person for you.”

“Nonsense,” Taeyong replied. “You’d be perfect. It would only take a couple of minutes. If I’m keeping you from something important then you can go, I’m sorry.” He pouted slightly, retracting the hand that held his phone and placing it in his jacket pocket.

Doyoung’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the other pout. In truth, he only had to go to the grocery store today, and he had lots of time to do that. Ten had always said he had the face of the model. That didn’t change the fact that Taeyong was a stranger, though. A very handsome stranger.

“Don’t be sorry,” Doyoung started. After a couple of seconds of internal debate he decided, “Sure, I’ll help you.” And really, Doyoung didn’t care if Taeyong was a stranger when he smiled so brightly at Doyoung.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Doyoung knew he was an awkward person. He didn’t really have much charisma like Ten. That’s why he always let Ten have the spotlight and he just followed in his shadow, always making sure to support him from behind.

So now, when he was the one in the spotlight, it was weird, to say the least. He didn’t know how to stand, where to put his hands, if he should smile or not. His palms were sweating and he was pretty sure his outfit did not match whatever theme Taeyong was going for. They were currently stationed in front of the pond at the end of the trail. The background allowed for different trees to be viewed as well as a distant outline of Paris buildings, the sun high in the sky to provide optimal lighting.

Taeyong was being so helpful, though. He never yelled at Doyoung, always guided his poses, and told him the feeling he was going for beforehand. His encouraging words also let Doyoung become more comfortable in his already embarrassing state. 

“Now just relax your hand against your hip, yes just like that. Okay, keep that pose,” Taeyong said, bringing his camera up to his face and snapping a few shots, shifting his feet and angle every few seconds. “You’re doing great, Doyoung.”

Doyoung huffed a piece of hair out of his eyes, changing poses again. This time he rested all of his weight on his left leg and slightly bending his right knee. His left arm lay still against the left side of his body. He tilted his chin up while bringing his right hand up to cover part of his face, looking down at the camera. Taeyong was on the ground a little ways away from him, pointing the camera up at him to get the effect that his body was longer and slimmer. Another breeze passed through, and Doyoung used it to bring his left arm up and comb his hair with his right hand, tilting his head back further and closing his eyes. He could feel a smile coming on as the cool breeze hit his cheeks and a small feeling of euphoria overtook his body.

“Woah,” He heard Taeyong whisper before he saw him lower the camera away from his face. “You’re a natural once you get into it.”

Doyoung blushed, suddenly feeling awkward again. He brought his arms down and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Taeyong smiled softly and stood up, walking over to Doyoung.

“I got a bunch of really good shots, so you don’t have to do anything anymore. Thank you so much for your help. You were probably the best person I’ve ever worked with,” He said, fingers gripping his camera.

“That’s not true,” Doyoung pouted, twiddling his fingers together. He didn’t want to admit he secretly swooned at the attention and encouragement. Now that they were done, he didn’t really know what to say to Taeyong.

They both glanced at each other, then quickly turned away from each other, Taeyong examining his camera and Doyoung looking down at his feet. They then both looked at each other at the same time, and this time their eyes stayed locked. Doyoung looked into Taeyong’s dark pupils. And the other looked back.

“Uhh, would it be okay if...” Taeyong started, picking his head up to look at Doyoung. Doyoung looked at him expectantly, but just then, Doyoung’s phone rang loud from where it was resting in his jean pocket.

“Sorry,” Doyoung mumbled. He took the phone out of his pocket and was about to hang up on Ten for ruining his moment when he noticed that it wasn’t Ten calling him. It was his mother. “Oh,” he whispered. “I have to take this.”

He looked back up at Taeyong, and even though the other was smiling and nodding in acceptance, he saw the hint of regret and sadness in his eyes. The man was just like a puppy, and Doyoung’s heart couldn’t take it.

He took a couple of steps away from Taeyong and picked up the phone, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Mom?” He said into the phone.

“Hey, Doyoung! I just wanted to check in and see how everything was going. Is this a bad time?” His mother asked through the phone.

Doyoung glanced back at Taeyong, who was awkwardly shuffling his feet, waiting for Doyoung to finish his call. He lowered his voice and said, “Kind of.”

“Oh!” His mother said, “I’m sorry sweetie, we can call at another time.”

Doyoung sighed and glanced at Taeyong again. The man was looking back at him, a question in his eyes. Doyoung just smiled and shook his head slightly. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll call you back in a few.” He hung up and walked back over to where Taeyong was standing. “Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

“Oh it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Taeyong replied. He looked nervous and wasn’t looking straight at Doyoung. Doyoung was confused about why Taeyong was acting like that but did not want to pry or anything, so he stayed silent.

“So,” Doyoung said instead. “I think I’m going to get on my way. I have to go to the store for some groceries.” He was cursing himself for ending the conversation there, but he really didn’t know what else to do.

Taeyong looked even more dejected than before. “Oh, alright. Well, take care,” he smiled tightly.

Doyoung nodded, feeling awkward and weird. It felt unsettling to end things like this, but both were too afraid to take that extra step. Doyoung gave Taeyong one last wave and turned around, starting down the path to the grocery store. 

He didn’t turn around, even though he so desperately wanted to. He didn’t want to think about the possibility that Taeyong wasn’t watching him as he walked away. Little did he know Taeyong stood there and looked on, even after Doyoung was long gone.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehe how'd you guys like that? did you like their first meeting? was it cute? boring? odd? tell me everything.
> 
> also did anyone see that slight markhyuck I squeezed in there because I couldn't help myself? no, just me? okay.
> 
> As always, comments are very much appreciated and I hope to be back with the next chapter soon(ish)!
> 
> my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/strwberrydo)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for coming back so late guys(it's only been 13 days but I still feel bad). truth be told, I haven't been writing a lot recently because I was hit with a little bit of writer's block. that also means the latest chapter isn't technically finished, so I'm kind of posting early but I didn't want to deny you guys any longer! this chapter is not betaed but it is longer than the rest so I hope that makes up for it!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING // SLIGHT HOMOPHOBIA, HOMOPHOBIC SLURS  
> there are slight mentions of homophobia in this chapter, so if that is something triggering for you, please STOP READING when you see the " /// " and continue when you see " /// " again.
> 
>   
> The song that Doyoung sings in this chapter can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/6UWaZh3CGlIxOerOlB4yDB?si=uw1Nj9enRwip96E84-p-bw)

“There’s something on your mind, isn’t there?” His mother said through the line. Doyoung was currently pushing a shopping cart around the grocery store, looking at the rows of fresh produce. He picked up a head of lettuce and examined it.

“Hmm, what?” He asked, not paying attention to his mother. He knew he should have at least been listening, but he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting. Drifting to encouraging words, bright smiles, and beautiful eyes. He cursed himself again.

“Just what were you doing when I called you before?” 

Doyoung stopped pushing the cart and let his mind fully drift. He thought of his short interaction with Taeyong. It was so fleeting and magical, he almost thought the whole thing was a dream. There was no way Taeyong’s bright smile and charming voice were real. But they were real, he was real. And Doyoung just let him slip through his fingers.

“I…” He started, trying to explain to his mother what he was feeling. “It was just something I didn’t want to end,” he ended quietly.

His mother was silent on the other end, and Doyoung started pushing the cart once more after placing the lettuce inside. He picked up a couple of other different vegetables, waiting for his mother’s response. She was much like himself and sometimes needed a little bit to put the words she wanted to say together.

“Sweetheart,” She started, “I want you to know I love you a lot. I know it’s been tough for you since your grandmother passed.” 

Doyoung stalled. Why was his mother bringing this up now?

“You’ve worked so hard for so long, whether it was in school or making money for your restaurant. I’ll always be proud of you for trying your best and not giving up. I think you really need to think about yourself in Paris. I’ve watched you grow into such a beautiful young man, and I’ve seen you cling to your grandmother almost the entire way. You two loved each other so much and were so precious to each other. I think being Paris will bring you two even closer, but I also think it’ll help you find your own identity. Find out who Kim Doyoung is. What are his passions? What are his dreams? Not his grandmother’s dreams, but his dreams. What does Kim Doyoung want out of life, and will he go about it alone?” She paused for a moment. “I know spending this time on your own will open you up to so many new things, so don’t hold back. Grab onto that chance. Don’t let it get away, sweetheart.”

Doyoung sniffed lightly, his eyes watering with tears. He wiped them away before they could fall, and cleared his throat. His mother somehow knew the exact words he needed to hear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice failing him for a moment.

“I love you, Bunny,” she ended, and Doyoung’s heart clenched. He said his goodbyes and hung up on the phone. Leaning over the handlebars of the shopping cart and resting his head on top of his arms, Doyoung let out a shaky breath. God, what did he do to deserve such a loving mother?

He picked his head up and went about finishing his grocery shopping, buying enough to last him for the next week or so. 

With his bags in hand, he walked back to his apartment. Once safely inside, he went about putting away all the groceries. He opened the door to his balcony to let some fresh air in while he worked. He decided to have a small lunch, choosing a simple vegetable stir fry as his dish. 

The maneuvers came naturally to him, having made this dish a hundred times before. He sauteed a selection of vegetables as his rice cooked in a small pot. He started singing lightly to himself, a habit that started when he was younger, no doubt due to his grandmother always singing him to sleep.

“ _ When I fall in love, _

_ It will be forever. _

_ Or, I’ll never fall in love. _

_ In a restless world like this is, _

_ Love is ended before its begun, _

_ And too many moonlight kisses, _

_ Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun. _

_ When I give my heart, _

_ It will be completely, _

_ Or I’ll never give my heart, _

_ And the moment I can feel that, _

_ You feel that way too, _

_ Is when I fall in love, _

_ With you.” _

Suddenly, Doyoung regretted listening to Nat King Cole growing up. He had always loved love songs because he always connected them to his grandparents. Never had they represented his own feelings, until now.

He thought of the song, of falling in love forever or not at all. He thought of giving his heart completely or not at all. And he thought of a bright smile, a warm and inviting aura, a beautiful voice, and an even more beautiful face.

_ Shit _ .

What was Taeyong doing to him?

  
  


* * *

  
  


A couple of days later, it was nearing sunset as Doyoung was lazily making his way back home. He had visited Alicia again, partially because he wanted a perspective on his recipes, partially because her food was absolutely delicious.

Thankfully, she didn’t manipulate him into temporarily being part of her staff again. Doyoung could not deal with upper-class hungry Parisians any longer. Then again, if Doyoung wanted to own his own restaurant, he would have to get used to the hustle and bustle of busy nights and complaining patrons.

Sighing, he turned the corner, and the sight before him was one he was  _ not  _ expecting. His heart skipped a beat.

A few feet in front of him was a man crouching on the ground, or more lying down completely, with a camera arched up at the lamppost situated at the end of the sidewalk. The man was probably trying to get the perfect angle, but Doyoung had to shudder by how gross it was to just… lie down on the sidewalk like that. Grinning, Doyoung walked up to the man, who still hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t alone.

“Is part of the job description going to sleep on the side of the road?” He asked, standing above the other, who immediately jerked and yanked the camera away from his face to see who was there. “Hi, Taeyong.”

There it was. That bright smile he oh so missed, even if it had only been a few days.

“Doyoung!” Taeyong said, scrambling to get up from his current position. Doyoung reached a hand out to help him, which the other graciously took. 

“Why is it that when we meet one of us is always on the ground?” Doyoung said with a smile, letting go of Taeyong’s hand even though it was so soft. He wanted to hold Taeyong’s hand for longer.

Taeyong laughed, wiping the dirt away from his clothes. “That, I cannot answer.” He picked his head up and smiled at Doyoung, “What were you doing?”

“Oh, just on my way home. What about you, though I can take a guess.”

Taeyong’s cheeks went rosy, and he gestured to his camera lazily. “Wanted to get the best angle.”

Doyoung hummed in understanding.

“Speaking of,” Taeyong continued, and Doyoung looked at him expectantly, his heart rate picking up involuntarily. “If you’re not too busy right now, can I show you something?”

Doyoung had to physically stop himself from smiling too bright. He kept his cool and crossed his arms over his chest. “Depends, is there any laying on the sidewalk involved?” He teased, mainly only so he could see Taeyong laugh and blush once more.

“There won’t be any laying on the sidewalk, I assure you.” 

Doyoung pondered it for a moment, and really, where else did he have to be? “Okay, show away.”

At that, Taeyong flashed his signature smile once more and grabbed one of Doyoung’s hand before taking off down the street. 

Doyoung laughed and followed diligently as Taeyong led them around another corner and to a building with a sign that read “Agence De Voyage” on the front. The place was clearly closed, so Doyoung was confused as to where Taeyong was taking him before they made a sharp turn into the alleyway next to the building. There, Taeyong led him through a rusted metal door that opened to an old, metal staircase.

“Taeyong, where are you taking us?”

“Shh, it’ll be worth it. I promise.” The other replied, still holding onto Doyoung’s hand as the two ascended the staircase together. 

Doyoung found himself so easily trusting the other, despite not knowing anything besides his name. This new feeling was scary, to say the least. It wasn’t that Doyoung didn’t trust people, he just didn’t go out of his way to make as many friends as he possibly could. One or two was enough for him, and he had that in Ten and Johnny. Still, he wasn’t opposed to the idea of getting to know Taeyong more, not at all. In fact, it was all he wanted to do, and that was the scariest part.

Once they got to the top of the staircase, Taeyong opened a door and led the two of them onto what was the roof of the building. 

Doyoung didn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.

On the roof, was a whole lounging area, with chairs and a low table, a rug, and a huge couch furnished with blankets and pillows, all safely under a clear tarp with string lights wrapped around the pillars. What was even more beautiful, however, was the view.

From up there, Doyoung could see such a huge part of the city, and the glittering lights of the Eiffel Tower shined in the distance, its figure dark against the setting sun.

Doyoung let go of Taeyong’s hand in awe, slowly walking over to the edge of the roof to get a better look at the view. He laid his arms on the edge and rested his head on top. He just watched the sun set below the horizon, and watched the city glow to life with its nightlights. He didn’t even notice Taeyong coming up to stand next to him.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Taeyong asked lightly, and Doyoung turned his head to look at the other.

The last gleams of light from the sun as it made its way below the horizon hit Taeyong’s face, illuminating his features in a golden hue. The window softly blew through his hair as he smiled at Doyoung.

“Yeah,” Doyoung whispered, “it is.”

“I discovered this place one of my first days in Paris. I had a contract with the company downstairs, and one day I saw a stray cat on the sidewalk while I was taking a photo. Curious, I followed the cat into the alleyway, but it went into hiding somewhere I couldn’t see. Instead, I found that door, and it was wide open, so I decided why not? Now, I come here whenever I want to relax or take a break,” Taeyong explained.

“Interesting story,” Doyoung remarked, picking his head up so it wasn’t resting on his arms anymore. The sun was about fully set now, so Taeyong walked over to the sitting area and turned on the string lights, lighting up the space. Doyoung followed him and took a seat on one of the chairs. “Have you lived in Paris long?” He asked casually, politely refusing the drink Taeyong offered him from a minifridge.

“Not really,” Taeyong replied, taking a seat in the chair next to Doyoung, cracking open his can of seltzer. “I came here because I was contracted by the company downstairs, and the contract is set for six months. It’s only been about three months, so I’ll still be here for a while. I travel for work a lot, so I live wherever my photos are wanted.”

Doyoung nodded, crossing one leg over the other. “That’s cool.”

“What about you?” Taeyong asked.

“Ah, I’m only here on vacation,” Doyoung said, suddenly anxious for some reason. He quickly uncrossed and recrossed his legs, hands feeling clammy. Why was he acting like this? He wasn’t telling Taeyong about his grandmother or explaining his whole life story. He probably looked incredibly suspicious to the man sitting next to him.

“Oh really? How long are you staying?” Taeyong didn't seem to notice Doyoung's turmoil or just didn't comment on it.

Doyoung wiped his hands on the fabric of his pants. “Just for the summer,” He gave Taeyong a small smile. The other nodded, and seemed to understand Doyoung’s sudden nervousness as he stopped questioning him further.

“Paris is beautiful,” He said instead, turning his head to look out over the edge of the roof again, the sky now completely dark and the city completely lit up.

“I know,” Doyoung said, sudden memories of his grandmother’s stories flooding his mind, “I’ve been hearing about its beauty forever.” He smiled down at his lap, thinking of the good times.

“Have you seen it?” Taeyong asked, standing up to go throw away his now finished seltzer. Doyoung looked up at him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Taeyong stood a little ways away from him, looking at Doyoung with a smile. “You said you heard of its beauty, but something tells me you haven’t really experienced it for yourself yet.”

Doyoung blushed, because the other was right. He had only just arrived in Paris, though. He hadn’t found the time to go on an adventure of his own yet.

Taeyong took a couple of steps to close the distance between him and Doyoung. Then, he stretched out his hand so it was hovering in front of Doyoung’s face. “Want to go on an adventure?” He whispered.

Doyoung stared up at him blankly. Taeyong had a warm and inviting smile on his face, but Doyoung could see a hint of excitement and expectation that lay in the depths of his eyes. He glanced down at the hand outstretched to him. Did he say yes? Did he trust a man he just met? 

He pondered the thought, and really, what was the harm? If he said yes, he’s probably going to end up going on an amazing adventure, and if he said no, he’s going to most likely regret it. His friends did always tell him he wasn’t adventurous enough.

Even with the small, rational voice in his head telling him to be careful because Taeyong was a stranger and this was too many new things too fast, he still placed his hand in Taeyong’s and said, “Yes.”

  
  
  
  


* * *

Doyoung found himself in the metro with Taeyong, making their way towards the city’s center, where Taeyong had told him of a small street fair that was in the city for the week. He started talking animatedly about his favorite things in Paris, and Doyoung was content with just listening to him talk. He had such a cute voice, and the way he gushed on was adorable. Doyoung noticed the similarities in the things he described in the things Doyoung's grandmother told him in her stories.

Once out of the metro, Taeyong guided them down a couple of blocks, walking slowly so both of them could take in the sights of the city at night together. The number of people on the street grew as they got closer to the fair, so they had to stand closer together, and it took every part of Doyoung not to hold Taeyong’s hand when their fingers brushed against each other.

Every now and then, Taeyong would bring his small camera up to his face and snap photos of scenery he liked or a particular snapshot of a random stranger. Doyoung smiled fondly at the sight because Taeyong’s eyes always lit up when he saw a scene he wanted to take a picture of. Doyoung recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same look he had when a new recipe turned out delicious.

Passion. 

Doyoung wanted to know more about Taeyong. He wanted to know about the other’s likes, his dislikes, his dumb habits that he couldn’t avoid, why he started photography. Doyoung wanted to know it all. It was scary.

They finally arrived at the fair, and the whole street was closed off for it. Booths lined the entirety of the street, vendors selling everything from trinkets to pottery to original paintings. Doyoung’s eyes glimmered. Just like on the roof, string lights illuminated the fair, strings of them strewn out across the top of the booths in a zigzag formation all the way down the line.

“C’mon,” Taeyong said, and ushered Doyoung to the beginning of the line, taking him down so they could check out everything the booths had to offer.

There was a large crowd of people mingling about the street, but it was still easy for Doyoung and Taeyong to weave their way through without losing each other.

They took their time checking out the booths. Doyoung had a feeling Taeyong was purposefully going slower so Doyoung could take his time at each booth to see what they had to offer. He knew the other had already visited the street fair, but he still made the effort to stay animated and curious for Doyoung. Or maybe he was just always like that. If that was the case, Doyoung might have just fallen even harder. Not that he would ever admit it.

“Here!” Taeyong said, pulling Doyoung to a booth that sold toys made out of wood. “They’re all hand-carved,” He explained. 

Doyoung looked at the rows of wooden toys, as Taeyong made light conversation with the booth owner. He noticed a simple flatware set, obviously made out of wood. At first glance, the utensils seemed simple, but after a closer look, Doyoung noticed carvings in the handles. There were smooth ridges among each handle that was unique to each utensil, intriguing Doyoung. He picked up the fork, feeling the wood, surprised by how smooth it was, despite the carvings.

“Do you want it?” He heard Taeyong say lowly in his ear, his breath hitting Doyoung’s neck. Doyoung jumped at the feeling, glancing at Taeyong next to him, before looking back at the flatware in front of him.

“I don’t know,” He responded, once he calmed his racing heart, “It’s definitely a beautiful and unique flatware set.” He placed the fork down in its designated spot.

“How much is it?” He heard Taeyong ask the owner in French.

“Taeyong, wait. You don’t have to,” He started, but Taeyong just held up a hand and smiled. 

“Think of it as a thank you gift for being my model, and for accompanying me out tonight.” He handed the owner a few bills, who took the money after carefully wrapping the flatware set in tissue paper and placing it inside a paper bag that he handed to Taeyong.

“At least let me pay you back,” Doyoung grumbled. Taeyong just laughed and shook his head, giving Doyoung the paper bag.

“Tonight’s my treat, don’t worry about it.” And that was it. They continued on their way, stopping at a few more booths before deciding to stop for some food. They found a small food court and an empty table.

“You stay here while I go get us some food,” Taeyong said, not giving Doyoung time to argue as he rushed towards the food stands. Doyoung huffed but he couldn’t help but smile as he sat down at the small table.

He looked at the paper bag he placed on the table in front of him. Taeyong really didn’t have to get him the set, but he noticed Doyoung’s interest and instantly wanted to get it for him. How was the man so attentive and caring? 

Taeyong came back a few minutes later with two crepes in his hands. Doyoung’s stomach growled at the sight, and both he and Taeyong laughed as they settled down to enjoy their food.

The crepe was absolutely delicious. It was filled with different fruits and strawberry jam. The crepe was thin and light, a perfect combination with the jam and fruits. Doyoung almost groaned in delight.

“So,” Taeyong started, looking at Doyoung. Doyoung looked back at him, pausing before taking another bite. “Is it safe to assume you’re a chef or are you just really into collecting flatware?.”

Doyoung chuckled and placed his crepe down. “You could say that I’m somewhat of a chef. I’m a culinary student right now and am graduating next year, so after that, you could technically call me a chef.”

“That’s cool! Why’d you want to become a chef?” Taeyong asked, taking a bite of his crepe.

Doyoung hesitated for a moment, his shoulders sinking slightly. He looked down at the crepe laying on his napkin. “Well,” he said quietly, mood growing solemn as he thought of the reason. A knot grew in his stomach, creating a feeling of nausea.

“Woah, I’m sorry,” Taeyong said, sensing Doyoung’s shift, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Doyoung shook his head, sending Taeyong a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, you didn’t. It’s just,” he paused and decided it was only fair Taeyong knew, “My grandmother is the reason. She’s been my inspiration since before I could properly hold a knife. She’s the reason for everything I do. She.. she passed away last year.” He rubbed his hands against his upper arms, crossing his arms defensively.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Taeyong said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” He also placed his crepe down and looked at Doyoung like one would look at a wounded animal.

Doyoung appreciated Taeyong’s efforts. The other really was such a caring person, from what Doyoung had the pleasure of witnessing so far. “It’s okay, Taeyong. Thank you,” he responded. “She’s in a better place now, and I feel even more settled in my place as a soon to be chef knowing I can share the experience of doing the one thing she loved the most: cooking.”

Taeyong nodded, a small silence falling over the both of them. It wasn’t uncomfortable though, just both being content in each other’s presence. Doyoung couldn’t explain it, it just felt natural between the two of them.

“What do you want to do next?” Taeyong asked once they were both finished with their food. Doyoung looked around the square they sat in, set right in the middle of the fair. He noticed a row of booths that had different festival games but decided against it. A short distance away there was a Ferris wheel, its colorful display showcasing a beautiful show of colors.

“How about the Ferris wheel?” He suggested, looking back at Taeyong expectedly. The other smiled brightly and nodded in agreement.

The line was surprisingly not too long for the time of night. Doyoung and Taeyong only had to wait five minutes for their turn. During that short time, they made light conversation about anything and everything. Doyoung told Taeyong about his favorite foods to make, while Taeyong told Doyoung about his favorite places he’s been to for his photography. The air around them stayed light and warm.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


“You’ve been to  _ Antarctica _ ?” Doyoung asked in disbelief, eyes wide in shock. Taeyong only laughed in reply, nodding his head.

“Yeah, I was a photographer for a science exhibition. There were so many cute penguins,” He made a pouty face, squishing the air as he reminisced about the things he saw.

“That’s,” Doyoung whispered. “Wow.”

“What?” Taeyong asked, a small smile on his face.

“It’s just. You’ve been almost everywhere. I’m jealous,” Doyoung said quietly, rubbing his arm and picking at the skin. 

Taeyong’s smile softened and he gently placed his hand over Doyoung’s. Doyoung looked down at their hands then up at Taeyong.

“Don’t be jealous, Doyoung. Traveling the world is great and all, don’t get me wrong. It’s my passion, but I miss staying in one place. I can’t really have permanent friends this way, and it gets lonely sometimes,” Something flashed in his eyes, and Doyoung wanted so badly to ask about what the other was feeling, but he held back. Maybe someday he would.

  
  
  


///

  
  
  


Suddenly, when Doyoung was about to say something about Taeyong’s hand that was still resting over his, somebody bumped into Taeyong’s shoulder, sending him stumbling into Doyoung’s chest. Luckily, Doyoung caught him and helped him gain his footing in time. 

Doyoung glared at the man who had so harshly bumped into Taeyong. The man turned around and had what seemed to be a look of regret on his face, but the slight lift of his lips and gleaming look in his eyes told Doyoung that he did not regret what he did at all.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” The man asked Taeyong, voice way too overdramatic to be sincere. Doyoung put his hand on Taeyong’s arm and kept it there, not wanting to take any chances with the weird man. He slightly pulled Taeyong so that he was standing between Taeyong the man, wanting to put as much distance between the two as possible.

“It was nothing, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” Taeyong said back with a warm smile on his face, not thinking much of the interaction. Doyoung’s hand subconsciously squeezed Taeyong’s arm harder, his senses on high alert.

“Well I’m glad,” The man said and started to turn around to go on his way, but before he was out of earshot Doyoung heard him mumble something that got his blood boiling.

“ _ Disgusting f*ggots _ ,” The man whispered to himself, walking away from them. Doyoung’s heart pounded in his ears. His grip went deathlike on Taeyong’s arm, and before Taeyong could ask him what was wrong, he gave in to the bubbling urge in his heart.

“What the fuck did you just say, asshole?” He yelled, grabbing the man’s attention, as well as everyone around them.

“Doyoung?” Taeyong whispered, putting his hand over Doyoung’s.

“I didn’t say anything,” the man replied, feigning innocence. Doyoung could see the truth in his smug grin.

“You know what you said.” Doyoung sneered, not shouting anymore with so many eyes on him. “You know exactly what you said. Do you have a problem? You see two guys standing next to each other and you have a problem with that?” He spat his words out, despite Taeyong’s growing protests.

“I just think it’s disgusting for you to shove that in my face,” the man scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Doyoung’s whole body was on fire. “Shove  _ what _ in your face? We were just standing next to each other. Don’t look our way if it disgusts you that much. But frankly, I don’t give a shit how it makes you feel. If I want to stand next to him and hold his hand I will. It’s none of your damn business anyway, so don’t come over here and fucking shove him. You’re the one that’s disgusting here, harassing random strangers.”

The man only rolled his eyes and laughed, clearly not listening to Doyoung at all. Doyoung wanted to keep yelling at the man, but the Ferris wheel worker informed them that it was Doyoung and Taeyong’s turn to enter. 

“Cmon, Doyoung. It’s not worth it,” Taeyong whispered, gently tugging on Doyoung’s hand. Doyoung was still glaring at the man, but eventually turned around and climbed inside the passenger car alongside Taeyong.

It wasn’t until the car started moving up the wheel that Doyoung let out a huge sigh and lowered his head in his lap. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Taeyong asked, a slight hesitation in his voice. He didn’t know where he and Doyoung stood so he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, but Doyoung looked pretty worked up.

Doyoung didn’t move his head from his lap as he steadied his breathing. He didn’t say anything for a moment or two, gathering his thoughts.

“My best friend,” he started, voice small, “has always been very proud and very unapologetic about who he was. He’s been like that ever since we met in high school.” A small chuckle escaped his lips at the memories, but it felt bitter on his tongue. “In high school, people can be mean, but they won’t really do anything because they’re teenagers. It was once we both got to college that I started noticing some threats were very much real and very dangerous.” He picked his head up and looked at Taeyong, who had a knowing look on his face. Doyoung could only grit his teeth and stare down at his lap again, eyes burning. “I really don’t want to retell it word for word, but let’s just say I’ve seen what can happen when some asshole decides he has the right to shit on innocent gay people who are just minding their own business. I’ve seen what they’ve done to my  _ best friend _ .” He choked up on the last words, feeling overwhelmed.

  
  
  


///

  
  
  


“Doyoung,” Taeyong said quickly, closing the space between them as he sat on the other bench next to Doyoung. He placed his hands on Doyoung’s shoulders, who was currently trying to calm his breath. 

Doyoung took in one big inhale and let out one big exhale, repeating that until he could feel his breathing become more stable. He gave Taeyong a small smile once he had calmed down. Taeyong squeezed Doyoung’s shoulders lightly and returned back to his seat on the other bench.

“I’m so sorry about what happened to your friend. I truly understand how it feels, trust me,” Taeyong said, voice tampering off at the end, his own emotions rising to the surface and threatening to bubble over the edge.

Doyoung looked at Taeyong and noticed the tight expression on the other’s face. Then it clicked.

“Are you?” he asked.

Taeyong looked at Doyoung’s questioning face and understood what he wanted to ask. “I’m gay, yeah,” he said softly, a bittersweet smile on his face. 

That made Doyoung even angrier because the look on Taeyong’s face told him that the whole situation wasn’t the first time he had experienced something like that. Doyoung reached out and placed a gentle hand on Taeyong’s knee, who returned the gesture with a smile. After a few moments of sharing a comfortable silence, Taeyong slightly hesitated, but asked, “What about you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Doyoung removed his hand from Taeyong’s knee and crossed his arms over his chest, still feeling uncomfortable from the recent confrontation and his own outburst. He held an inner debate in his mind, but there was nothing threatening about Taeyong and the other had already opened up to him. It was only fair he did the same.

“I’m bi,” He told Taeyong, who gave him an accepting smile in response.

Neither said anything. There wasn’t anything else to say. They both knew.

But after that, the air shifted between them. 

Doyoung didn’t know what it was, but the topics of their sexualities had never been something important or even relevant, and now they were out in the open.

Suddenly the underlying curiosity of what was happening between them was now backed up by the prospect that it could be something… more.

Doyoung looked out of the glass that lined the passenger car. They were slowly riding around the wheel, the sights of Paris becoming more clear and beautiful as they were raised higher in the sky. Paris looked beautiful at night.

They did one full loop around the wheel before their car stopped at the top. The view from that height was incredible. Doyoung spared a glance at Taeyong, who was looking outside in wonder, and he thought to himself  _ yeah, the view really is absolutely incredible. _

“Hey Doyoung, can I tell you something?” Taeyong asked, still looking out the glass and not at Doyoung.

Doyoung was a little confused, but hummed in response, letting the other speak.

“Tonight has been the most fun I’ve had in a while. I know we haven’t known each other for a long time, but it just feels so easy with you. I really enjoy your company.” He said, turning his head to send a flashing smile at Doyoung. 

Doyoung’s heart skipped a beat. He felt his face warm, and he had to quickly turn the other way to not let Taeyong see how rosy his cheeks were.

“I feel the same,” he said quietly. He glanced at Taeyong and found the other still looking at him, and this time he kept his eyes on the other. 

They stared at each other in comfortable silence, the world around them still as the passenger car swayed slightly from the wind outside. The lights of Paris glittered in the dark, illuminating their view and each other’s faces.

Before they knew it, the passenger car started moving again and stopped at the bottom of the wheel, signaling their ride was over. Neither of them said anything as the car came to a stop.

They slowly made their way through the streets, exiting the fair, the atmosphere between them light and warm. There were fewer people out and about now, but they still stood close to each other as they walked. The only light source was the streetlamps that hung high over the side of the road. 

Doyoung looked up at the stars as they walked, admiring the scattered array of lights painted across the dark black night sky. He didn’t hear the faint click of a camera shutter.

  
  
  


* * *

Doyoung and Taeyong made their way into the metro and rode back to Doyoung’s neighborhood. 

As they walked up the steps out of the appropriate station and back onto the street, Taeyong finally broke the silence between them. “Where do you live? I’ll walk you home.”

Doyoung shook his head and smiled at Taeyong. “It’s okay. I only live a block or two away.” Taeyong tried to protest, but Doyoung just placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “Thank you so much for tonight. It was nice to be able to go on an adventure with someone.” He pulled a strand of hair behind his ear and looked at the ground, his cheeks growing a shade of pink.

“I’m glad I could share this adventure with you. I’d love to do it again sometime,” Taeyong replied, a hopeful and questioning smile on his face when Doyoung looked back up at him.

To that, Doyoung gave him a reassuring nod and a smile. He waved goodbye before turning and making his way down the street. He didn’t want to ruin the moment they just shared, so he didn’t say much in response and quickly walked the rest of the way home.

It was only once he was in his apartment that Doyoung let himself break out into a wide smile and let out a breathless and giddy laugh. He hadn’t had fun like that in ages. Especially not with someone as beautiful as Taeyong.

The growing feeling in his heart was scary, to say the least, but it was so warm and inviting that Doyoung didn’t mind throwing caution to the wind. He wanted to know everything about Taeyong and wanted to spend all his time with the other. He ignored the rational voice in his head, and the looming feeling at the back of his mind.

After going about his nightly routine, Doyoung went to sleep that night, the happiest he has been in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the longer chapter made up for me not posting in a little while :)
> 
> things are starting to move along! this is so exciting!
> 
> thank you so much for 500 hits everyone! I know the number is very small, but it means a lot to me that people like my fic and decided to read it. I'll keep working hard for you all!
> 
> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/strwberrydo)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my gosh I'm so sorry for coming back so late everyone :( I went on a ton of vacations this month so I didn't have time to write plus I also wrote a short dotae oneshot as well (go check it out if you want)
> 
> anyways I hope you didn't forget about me and that this chapter makes up for the wait!
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> playlist for the au can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CftYwRgQdvpLgLbu0ONez?si=Eq4zLKnuSJehWCZ06LlwPw)

Breakfast on his balcony was very quickly becoming a daily occurrence for Doyoung. Today’s spread consisted of a vegetable omelette with pieces of pork sausage and a side of sweet potato hash. 

Doyoung’s stomach was growling as he set his plate down on the balcony table and took a seat to start eating his food. He picked up his fork and stabbed one of the sausages to take a bite. Right before he could properly take a bite he heard a crash from his right. It sounded like a chair fell over and when Doyoung looked over in the direction of the sound he saw that was exactly what had happened. The chair on his neighbor’s balcony had fallen over, and said neighbor was hurrying to pick it up, but wait… 

“Taeyong?” Doyoung breathed.

Taeyong, who immediately froze at the sound of his name, stood on his balcony, metal chair in hand and an embarrassed look on his face.

“Uh, hi?” Taeyong tentatively asked.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung said, placing his long-forgotten sausage back down on the plate. “Do you live here too?”

Taeyong only nodded, putting the chair back in its original place. “I swear I didn’t know you also lived here,” he said meekly.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Doyoung said to calm the other’s nervousness, though he would be lying if that thought didn’t immediately cross his mind, “This is just a really big coincidence.”

“It must be fate,” Taeyong said with a smile, taking a seat in his chair, facing Doyoung.

Doyoung scoffed, “There’s no such thing as fate.”

“Cmon, Doyoungie, you’re telling me you don’t believe in fate just a little bit?”

_ Doyoungie?  _ Nobody really called him that… he liked it. Taeyong must’ve noticed the slight hesitation and confusion on Doyoung’s face because he immediately blushed and slouched a little.

“Sorry, was that too forward of me?” Taeyong said sheepishly, a slight pout forming on his face.

Doyoung thought about how cute he looked when he pouted.

“It’s okay, it’s just nobody has called me that before. I kind of like it.” He smiled warmly at Taeyong, making sure the other knew he wasn’t uncomfortable with the nickname.

Taeyong returned Doyoung’s smile with one of his own. “That reminds me,” he started, “This is a random question, but are you Korean?”

Doyoung laughed, thinking about a certain barista who asked him the same question a few days back.

“Yes I am,” he replied. “And I can probably guess your next question too. I’m 24.”

Taeyong’s eyes shined. “I just turned 25. That makes me your hyung.”

Doyoung inwardly cringed, thinking about all the times he spoke to Taeyong that would be considered not respectful in Korea.

“But you don’t have to worry too much,” Taeyong continued, “You can just start calling me hyung now if it makes you feel better.”

Doyoung nodded slightly. He didn’t know what else to say and didn’t want to make the situation awkward so he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Do you want some sausage… hyung?” 

At that, Taeyong’s stomach grumbled loudly, and Taeyong flushed. He gave Doyoung a grateful smile. 

“That sounds lovely.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Doyoung ended up fixing Taeyong his own plate, not satisfied with giving the other one singular sausage. He told Taeyong to wait patiently while he went inside to make the food. When he got back out, Taeyong was still sitting where he was, but he had his camera next to him on the table with a few different lenses scattered around it.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked when he reemerged, reaching his arm across the space between their balconies to give Taeyong his plate. They weren’t too far apart, so Doyoung could safely pass him a plate, but trying to physically cross the space would be a different story.

“I’m just organizing my lenses and checking for anything that seems broken,” Taeyong said after thanking Doyoung for the food. He placed the plate down on the table next to his camera. 

Doyoung hummed in response and sat down to finally enjoy his breakfast. The eggs were light and fluffy, the vegetables adding texture and flavor. The sausages were juicy and savory, but Doyoung’s favorite part had to be the hash. The sweetness of the potato mixed with the flakey salt he sprinkled on top created an explosion of flavor, all in one crunchy bite. He smiled to himself, proud of his work. He turned to ask Taeyong what he thought of the food, but the other beat him to it.

“This is the best breakfast I’ve ever had,” Taeyong said excitedly, a wide smile on his face with the fork hanging from his lips. “Your cooking is amazing.”

Doyoung blushed at the compliment. The look of astonishment didn’t leave Taeyong’s face as he ate more of the breakfast Doyoung made him.

It was looking at Taeyong enjoying his food that brought another smile to Doyoung’s face. It was that look that people got when they ate good food that was part of the reason Doyoung still loved to cook. And the pure, childlike wonder that was so often displayed on Taeyong’s face was quickly becoming his favorite view in the whole world.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said softly, forgetting about his own food in favor of watching Taeyong finish his.

“So, do you have any plans for the day Doyoungie?” Taeyong asked after a while. They had both finished their breakfasts a while ago, with Taeyong repeatedly giving Doyoung compliments on his cooking. After that, they both decided to stay outside and enjoy the morning sun together, Taeyong organizing his lenses and Doyoung writing in his journal.

“I was going to stay in for the day, work on my recipes, and all that. Why do you ask?” Doyoung said absentmindedly, his focus mainly directed at the pages in front of him. He didn’t want to lose his train of thought as a recipe idea just came to him a moment ago.

“I was wondering, if you weren’t busy later on, would you want to go out and do something again like we did yesterday?”

Doyoung looked up from his journal, having finished writing his sentence. He looked across the two balconies and at Taeyong, who was looking back at him expectantly. 

He thought about it for a moment. He thought back to the previous night and how much fun he had had with Taeyong. He thought about the light fluttering feeling that he felt in his heart once he got home. He thought about the conversation they had on the Ferris Wheel.

He thought about the apprehension he felt, doing things so willingly with a stranger. But calling Taeyong a stronger, after only meeting him a few days ago, felt wrong. Taeyong wasn’t a stranger, he was different.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Doyoung eventually replied, a smile on his face.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Doyoung couldn’t focus at all.

He was currently sitting on top of the mini island in his kitchen, trying to concentrate. For the past hour or so, he’s been trying different combinations of salted caramel sauce to get the perfect mix of sweet and salty. But he couldn’t seem to get the flavor he was going for. There was either too much salt that it overpowered the sweetness of the caramel, or there wasn’t enough salt and you couldn’t even taste it, which defeated the purpose of a  _ salted _ caramel sauce.

Groaning in frustration, Doyoung put down the pot full of sauce that was in his hands. He picked up his journal and scribbled out the words he wrote in there, another possible combination thrown in the trash.

Something was blocking his train of thought, and it was severely affecting his ability to concentrate and get the recipe right. 

That something was definitely not the familiar flash of a certain someone’s smile and the glimmer of wonder and astonishment in their eyes when they first tasted Doyoung’s cooking. 

It definitely wasn’t that.

Sighing, Doyoung hopped off the counter and put the pot into his sink. He would work on cleaning it later, but he just wasn’t in the mood to scrub copious amounts of sticky caramel off the metal pot.

Grabbing his phone, he checked the time as he made his way over to his couch. 

  
  


_ 12:28 pm _

_ No new notifications _

  
  


Doyoung let out another groan. Taeyong wouldn’t be done with work for another hour and a half, and he had nothing to do while he waited. He had enough caramel for today.

Turning on the tv and switching to a random channel, Doyoung clicked on Ten’s contact and sent a quick message.

  
  


_ Hey, are you busy? _

  
  


A reply came in about a minute.

  
  


_ Nah, what’s up? _

_ Bored. Want to call? _

_ Sure _

  
  


In the next moment, his phone was ringing with a call from Ten.

“Hey,” he said after picking up the phone.

“Already bored with Paris? Why am I not surprised,” came Ten’s reply, voice sassy and teasing.

Doyoung rolled his eyes. “I’m not bored of Paris, just bored.”

“What about that pretty boy you told me about? Where’s he?”

“He’s at work,” Doyoung grumbled, sulking back into the couch. He was paying minimal attention to the TV, but it looked like some kind of French drama was playing.

“You guys already know each other’s daily schedules? I got to say, Doyoung, this is the fastest I’ve seen you get with someone,” Ten laughed.

Doyoung blushed and straightened his back. “I’m not trying to get with him!” He protested, but the words felt slightly weird on his tongue.

“Whatever you say, loverboy. I’m only joking. Besides, from what you’ve told me, I’d want to get with him too.”

Doyoung went back to sulking, ignoring his friend’s teasing. “Whatever. Tell me about the contract.”

“Alright. Like I told you before, the property consists of the entire first floor of the building. The owner is giving you full ownership of the space, so you’ll be in charge of all of the expenses, which is obvious. Thankfully, you and your parents had saved up enough that they didn’t need to take out a huge loan. The way I see it, you’ll have this place paid off in less than thirty years. That is if the business takes off.”

“Don’t crush my dreams before they even start, Ten,” Doyoung remarked, “That all sounds good. When does the property become ours?”

“We settled for November. The owner is apparently redoing the pipes or something, so he couldn’t let us access the space right away, but it works out because you aren’t coming back until September,” Ten explained.

“Perfect,” Doyoung replied, a slight yawn leaving his lips as he arched his back and stretched his arm over his head. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I barely understood anything of what I just said anyway. Johnny explained it all to me because I knew you’d ask me sometime.”

Doyoung chuckled a little at his best friend. The other relied on Johnny so much it was almost comical. All of Johnny and Ten’s other friends made countless jokes about it, but Doyoung knew it was really because Ten trusted Johnny to the fullest. 

For how confident Doyoung’s best friend was, he didn’t allow many people to see the real him that lied behind his mask. He had really only let Johnny and Doyoung in to truly see him for him, and not the facade he always put on. It was only natural though, Doyoung thought. Having been abandoned so many times in his life and been expected to show no negative emotions, Ten’s only coping mechanism used to be to act as though life was a party all the time, and never let anyone know what he was hiding behind his smile. Thankfully over the years he’s gotten better and has let himself show the world his true self without any fear. It was part of the reason why Doyoung thought Ten was the strongest person he knew.

“Doyoung?” Ten asked.

Doyoung, jerked from his thoughts, shook his head. “Sorry, I spaced out,” he said softly.

Ten laughed a little. “You went into your thought mode again, I understand. Don’t sweat it.”

Doyoung let out a small sigh and rolled his eyes. He was kind of missing his best friend at the moment, as much as he would deny that if anyone ever confronted him about it.

They stayed on call for a while, talking about nothing and everything at the same time, as they always did. Doyoung had only been gone barely over a week, but with how exciting Ten’s day to day life was, he wasn’t short of stories to tell Doyoung. Most of them included the appearance of Johnny in one way or another as well.

By the time their call ended, it was around 1:20 pm.

Wanting to keep himself busy, Doyoung decided to take a shower before his  _ totally not a date _ with Taeyong. Deciding not to wash his hair since he already did that morning, he just quickly washed his body to get any caramel drizzle off his arms. 

He applied his favorite rose-scented body lotion to his arms after his shower was over. He stepped out of the bathroom smelling like spring. He had a small inkling of a thought that Taeyong didn’t like floral scents, but he disregarded that in favor of finding a good outfit.

Doyoung had no idea where he and Taeyong were going. They hadn’t agreed on anything at breakfast, but Doyoung still wanted to look his best. He decided on a short-sleeved navy button-up, the collar and front pocket a shade of sky blue, paired with a pair of dark wash jeans. Simple, but not underdressed. 

His hair was still wet, so Doyoung only had the chance to put on his jeans before his doorbell rang. Confused, he grabbed a random black t-shirt and threw it on before going to open his door.

Standing on the other side was Taeyong, a smile on his face as Doyoung opened the door.

“I thought you weren’t done for another twenty minutes?” Doyoung asked, leaning his arm against the door.

Taeyong simply shrugged. “They let me leave early. I just came by to see if you were ready. I still have to change, though.”

Doyoung rolled his eyes. “Maybe come back when you’re actually changed,” he teased. “And I’m almost done getting ready.”

To that, Taeyong gave him a nod and headed over to his own door. “I’ll come knocking again when I’m done, okay?”

Doyoung gave him an OK sign and closed the door to finish changing. He completely ignored the rapid beating of his heart as he switched shirts and picked out accessories.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


“Do you have any preference for where we can go?” Taeyong asked once the two of them stepped out of the apartment building and into the street.

“Not really,” Doyoung replied, stretching his arms over his head, “There are some places I want to visit while I’m here but nothing comes to mind immediately.”

Taeyong hummed. “Then how about we visit this beautiful little museum that has a small garden and cafe. It’s right by the Montmartre. The entire district is full of tourist attractions,” he explained.

“Wow, you really know a lot about Paris,” Doyoung remarked, following Taeyong easily as they set out for the metro station.

“I love researching the cities I’ll be working in before I go. Plus, I’ve already been here for a couple of months. I have more free time to explore than you might think,” he laughed, walking down the staircase of the station with Doyoung.

“Oh really, your job must be more boring than I thought if you’re doing that much research,” Doyoung drawled, rolling his eyes dramatically. Thankfully, Taeyong picked up on his jest and laughed, rolling his own eyes.

“What can I say, I’m kind of a nerd,” Taeyong joked once they successfully sat down on the correct train to take them to their destination.

“If that’s what you call a nerd then call me Megamind,” Doyoung deadpanned, crossing one leg over the other and resting his arms on his knees.

“Megamind?”

“He’s an American cartoon character who has a huge head.”

“Are you saying you have a big head?”

Doyoung glared at Taeyong, who only snickered next to him. “My head is not big.”

“Mhm, okay,” Taeyong said, voice sickly sweet. Doyoung scoffed, but he couldn’t help the small smile from forming on his face.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Taeyong took the whole train ride telling Doyoung everything he knew about the little museum they were going to. It was nice to just listen to the other talk, especially when he got really into the conversation.

Doyoung learned the museum they were going to was named  _ Musee de la vie Romantique _ , which apparently translated to Museum of Romantic Life.  _ It’s just a coincidence… right? _ he thought.

The neighborhood where the museum was located was pretty and quaint. There were mostly apartment buildings on the street, but a few cafes and boutiques were present among them. It wasn’t a huge tourist spot, as there weren’t too many people on the street. 

The entrance to the museum was disguised as an alleyway between two buildings, and if Taeyong didn’t make a turn into the grounds, Doyoung would’ve kept walking.

Open, green gates greeted them with a stone path that led to the museum, which was behind the building that lined the street. Different shrubberies and flowers lined the expense of the path, which opened up to a paved courtyard scattered with round tables and chairs. Off to their left was a cafe with walls entirely made of glass. It was surrounded by gardens that gave it a greenhouse look. Doyoung breathed in the faint scent of coffee before he heard the muffled noises of a coffee maker somewhere inside the small cafe. 

To their right, there was a small ramp that led to the museum. The building itself had big arching extended half round windows, paired with light green wooden shutters. The 19th-century influence in the architecture was definitely more noticeable once Doyoung and Taeyong walked inside. The cool of the air conditioner was a pleasant change to the humidity from the outdoors.

An older lady greeted them in French, welcoming them to the museum. She asked them something, but Doyoung couldn’t understand all of the words to her question. Taeyong, thankfully, answered for both of them. He seemed excited to talk to her as if they had met each other before. She handed him two brochures that had the museum’s name scripted on the front page in a beautiful font with a large smile on her face.

Thanking the lady, Taeyong led them into the museum and into the big room, which Doyoung guessed used to be the main room of the building before it became a museum.

“You know, knowing some French would be good. Since we’re in France and all,” Taeyong remarked. There was no malice in his voice, it was just a friendly suggestion.

Doyoung sighed, “I know. I was way too busy with school before coming that I couldn’t properly learn enough.”

Taeyong hummed, then smiled. “If you want, I can be your personal translator for the rest of your vacation, if you’d like.”

“As tempting as that is,” Doyoung laughed, “I don’t want to force you to follow me around everywhere I go. I know enough to order coffee, which is the only thing I care about.”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Taeyong said softly, and anything else Doyoung wanted to say died on his lips.

He looked at Taeyong. There was an endearing look in his eyes, a glimmer in his pupils. Doyoung’s heart rate picked up, and his cheeks dusted pink, despite his inner protests. He looked down at his brochure, suddenly very interested in the history of the museum. Not that he could fully understand the writing printed on the pages, something Taeyong probably knew as well.

They continued on wordlessly, looking at the paintings that adorned the walls of the room and their corresponding descriptions in the small brochure. Taeyong helped Doyoung understand the descriptions of the paintings he was particularly fascinated with, which more often than not, led them to stand with their shoulders touching. Doyoung could hear Taeyong’s every breath with their close proximity as Taeyong’s finger glided over the words on the paper, slowly reading them out in Korean for Doyoung to understand.

That was another thing that shifted between the two. 

Ever since the incident at the Ferris wheel, Taeyong had become slightly self-conscious of their conversations in public. Not like they were saying anything that wasn’t normal, but still.

He didn’t say this out loud, but Doyoung understood it when he started to speak more and more Korean to Doyoung. Their conversations were now entirely in Korean unless otherwise needed. Doyoung didn’t mind, because it was what made Taeyong more comfortable, and allowed him to stay his usual bubbly self.

It made Doyoung realize Taeyong may have been used to harassment, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t affect him. He tampered down the flare of anger in his heart as he thought back to the incident at the Ferris wheel. Doyoung wasn’t a violent person, but he was ready to punch that asshole given the chance. 

They were on the second floor of the building, looking at a handcrafted dark oak table when someone tapped Doyoung on the shoulder.

He turned to see who it was, and was met with the old lady from the front smiling up at him. She said something to him in French, but her voice was sort of frail and quiet Doyoung could barely make out what she said.

“Excuse me?” He asked in French, bending down so that he could hear her better.

She repeated herself, and Doyoung tried his best to understand. From the few words she said, he pieced together that she was inviting him and Taeyong to have tea with her downstairs.

“That sounds lovely,” Taeyong replied in  _ much better _ French, shooting the old lady a dazzling smile. Doyoung nodded and smiled as well, thanking the lady.

Her smile grew wider and she led them down the newly painted wooden stairs back to the first floor of the museum. Doyoung glanced at the paintings lining the wall on their way down, vaguely remembering the names of a few. They walked past the entrance to the main room of the hotel, and were about to head towards the front door when the lady suddenly took a right turn and led them through a door marked “EMPLOYEES ONLY”.

Doyoung glanced back at Taeyong confusedly, but the other just sent him a reassuring smile.

The lady let them through another door and into a small office. In the center was a wooden table, made of similar material to the one upstairs, surrounded by three cushioned chairs. The entire floor was covered in a deep mahogany-colored carpet that extended all the way to the bookshelf lining the back wall. 

“Sit,” she said kindly, gesturing to the table. Doyoung and Taeyong bowed their heads slightly and took a seat at the table. The lady then went off into another room, where Doyoung presumed she was preparing tea for them.

“Am I the only one who finds this old lady offering us tea weird?” Doyoung said once the lady was out of earshot, even though he doubted she could understand Korean.

“It seems weird, yes, but I actually know her from when I came here to take pictures a couple of weeks ago. She was really kind to me and even told me about every painting I took photos of,” Taeyong explained.

Doyoung nodded. “I was wondering why you were telling me so much about the paintings when the brochure barely had more than two sentences.”

Taeyong blushed at that. “Sorry,” he said, “did I ramble too much?

“Not at all,” Doyoung said with a smile, “It was actually kinda cute.” He immediately regretted the words when they left his lips, cursing himself.

However it seemed Taeyong’s face only heated up even more, and before Doyoung could respond, the lady walked back in with a tray that held a porcelain teapot and three porcelain cups.

She set the tray down on the table and carefully placed a teacup in front of Doyoung and Taeyong, as well as one in front of her own seat. The small teapot had floral designs adorning it, matching the teacups.

Putting the tray off to the side, the lady sat in her own chair and poured tea into each cup.

She started speaking in French, to which Taeyong replied. Doyoung still couldn’t understand enough to partake in the conversation, but he assumed the two of them were catching up and that he wouldn’t have much to contribute anyway. He picked up the teacup and slightly blew on the tinted liquid. The steam coming off the tea flew away and the liquid stirred. Doyoung took a tentative sip, and when the tea wasn’t too hot for his tongue, he took another. A small sigh escaped his lips. 

_ This is french verveine tea, indigenous to South America _ , he thought to himself. Doyoung had never personally tried it, but the soft, rich lemony aroma and the smooth taste was a clear giveaway.

“Do you like the tea?”

Doyoung flinched, causing him to swallow his sip of tea prematurely, resulting in him coughing awkwardly. When he looked up he noticed both Taeyong and the lady were looking at him. Taeyong had a knowing smile on his face, and Doyoung could see him trying to suppress a laugh from Doyoung’s surprise. 

It took him half a minute to realize the old lady was speaking in English, and speaking to  _ him _ .

He placed the teacup down and laughed nervously. “Yes, thank you very much. I’ve never had french verveine before.”

The old lady’s eyes shined, impressed at Doyoung’s knowledge. “You know of french verveine?”

Doyoung nodded sheepishly. “I took a whole class on the different types of herbs found in tea, as well as their medicinal values, so I kind of know a lot about tea.”

“That’s impressive Megamind,” Taeyong said from his side, poking his shoulder. Doyoung rolled his eyes at the other, playfully sticking out his tongue. Taeyong only chuckled in response.

“Don’t call me that if you know what’s good for you,” Doyoung glared, trying to look scary by turning the corners of his lips down and scrunching his eyebrows. It was too dramatic and unnatural that Taeyong only laughed more.

Suddenly, the old lady said something to Taeyong in French, a mirth in her smile. Whatever she said cut Taeyong’s laugh off and made him sputter over his words. His cheeks and ears had a pink tone and his eyes were looking anywhere but at Doyoung. He tried to form a response to her in French, but couldn’t seem to properly get any words out apart from “He is not”.

Doyoung looked at Taeyong with a confused expression, a question in his eyes. When Taeyong noticed his gaze, he only gave Doyoung a small shake of his head and a smile. 

Doyoung was unsatisfied, but he left it at that once the old lady started asking him more questions, like what his favorite tea was and anything else he knew about the beverage. He easily obliged, never one to pass up an opportunity to talk about things he was knowledgeable in. It also didn’t hurt that she praised his knowledge every few minutes.

They conversed with the lady for another twenty minutes before she let them go explore the small gardens outside. Doyoung excused himself so that she and Taeyong could catch up a little bit more before they left. He thanked her for her hospitality and the tea before leaving.

He stepped outside and lingered at the end of the ramp as he waited for Taeyong. The air was a bit cooler now, a slight breeze wafting through the air as they stepped onto the pavement of the courtyard.

“Hungry? We could stop at the cafe,” Taeyong asked, coming up from behind Doyoung. He pointed towards the cafe a little way away from the building that was on the other side of the courtyard. Doyoung looked in that direction, mostly so he could avoid the hand Taeyong had on his shoulder and how he was close enough that he could almost count all of Taeyong’s eyelashes.

Doyoung tried to calm his heartbeat by taking in the different plants surrounding the courtyard. The gardens were definitely well kept, with not one leaf out of place. All the different plants were expertly placed so their visual appeals were maximized and that the scents of two different plants didn’t mix unpleasantly.

Suddenly, Doyoung’s stomach rolled. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and could definitely go for more than just a croissant. “Is there anything more… substantial around here?” He asked, turning to face Taeyong, who had taken a couple of steps away from Doyoung so they weren’t so… close.

Taeyong nodded, “There’s a nice restaurant across the street we could visit.” He started to lead Doyoung towards the exit, but not before checking out the gardens with him.

At that, Doyoung smiled. He was intrigued and fascinated at the different fauna that was growing there, stopping to admire them for a little while longer

Doyoung didn’t notice Taeyong, a step behind him, admiring a different kind of beauty, that definitely did not come in the form of the fauna.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! I love writing them going on dates and stuff because its so much fun!
> 
> I don't know when the next time I will update will be, but I hope it will be soon.
> 
> as always comments are really appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! I hope I haven't been away for too long ><
> 
> truth be told I haven't written all month :( I'm a little stuck on where to go next after what I wrote last so it might take me a little longer to get back on track! not to mention school starts soon(ugh)
> 
> I hope you all like this chapter! there was a lot of stuff I think I did really poorly but I'm posting anyways <3
> 
> playlist for the au can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CftYwRgQdvpLgLbu0ONez?si=HzdF4ltwSNWbxDkS1Nvy_A)

“I got to say, I’m proud of you Doyoung.”

“Why’s that?” Doyoung asked.

He was currently standing in his kitchen, phone balanced between his ear and shoulder as he was frying some bacon for his breakfast. It was only a little bit before 10 in the morning, and he was on a call with his best friend because the other insisted on knowing every single detail about his time in Paris.

“Despite what you said, you’ve actually been going out a lot. All with this really cute guy you found on the street. And I still don’t know anything about him besides how  _ breathtaking  _ he is, to put it in your own words,” Ten said with a smirk, or Doyoung assumed he was smirking on the other side of the line.

“Shut up,” Doyoung said, attributing the warmth in his cheeks to the heat radiating off the pan in front of him, and nothing else. “His name is Taeyong if you want to know so badly. Does that make you happy?” he sighed. It wasn’t like he was purposefully trying to hide Taeyong from Ten. The real reason why he didn’t want to tell his best friend about his… adventures with Taeyong, was because he knew the other would make a huge deal out of nothing. He was just having fun with Taeyong, that was it.

“Gosh even his name is perfect,” Ten gushed, voice over-exaggerated and high pitched, “Are you sure this isn’t some grand scheme for him to like, steal all of your money and kill you?” he asked.

“Wow, way to have faith in him,” Doyoung said dryly, but he couldn’t ignore the sudden spike in his blood pressure. He knew his best friend was only joking, but damn if Doyoung wasn’t extremely cautious of any situation. “I’m going to take my chances in the hopes that he  _ isn’t _ the murderer you think he is,” he finished.

“I’m only joking,” Ten cooed, “In all seriousness, I’m actually hoping this Taeyong guy is anything but a killer. Nobody has ever made you this happy in such a short time before.” His voice came out softer at the end of his sentence, and Doyoung almost couldn’t register the words.

“Happy?” Doyoung questioned. As much as his friend knew more about him than he did himself, he didn’t really feel any different than normal. He had been in a kind of slump of sorts, but he still went out and did stuff with his friends from time to time, when his schedule allowed it. Sure, Paris was kind of an escape for him, but he had always been happy.

“You’re so oblivious to your own emotions, Doyoung,” Ten sighed, “I can hear it in your voice, dumbass. I don’t have to be in front of you to know when there’s a smile hidden behind your lips waiting to form just at hearing Taeyong’s name. When was the last time you’ve gone out this much in a short period of time, with someone you just met for that matter?”

Doyoung looked down at his hands, one holding the handle of the frying pan and the other holding on to a wooden spoon. The sizzle of his bacon cooking was momentarily forgotten as he processed Ten’s words. When he put it like that, Ten had a point. Doyoung just didn’t want to acknowledge the underlying bitterness that lay deep in his heart. He hadn’t told anyone, but he felt as though he was undeserving of true happiness ever since his grandmother passed, but it seemed like Ten had already picked up on his true feelings. Like he always did.

“You haven’t truly enjoyed yourself since your grandma died, Doyoung,” Ten continued, “I want you to be happy,  _ truly _ happy. What I’m trying to say is, you’ll definitely have to introduce me to Taeyong because I think he’s going to be somebody very special for you.”

And, just like Ten predicted, a smile made its way onto Doyoung’s lips as he thought of Taeyong. He thought of the other’s smile, his laugh, how polite he was to everyone around him, and how he held such a wonder for what the world had to offer. 

Doyoung thought of how he had never felt like this for anybody ever before, and how Ten had picked up on it instantly. He thought back to the weeks after his grandmother passed, how Ten was there the entire time, making sure he was eating properly and still making it to school enough so that he wouldn’t fail.

“Thank you,” Doyoung whispered, the  _ for everything _ left unspoken. He sniffed lightly, not allowing himself to get too emotional before he overcooked his bacon. He turned off the heat for the stovetop and left the meat in the pan so it could cool down.

“It’s what best friends are for, right?” Ten laughed. Doyoung laughed as well, as he walked over to his fridge to retrieve eggs. Their conversations were rarely deep and serious, mostly because the two of them shared a silent understanding. It came with many years of friendship and adjusting to each other’s personalities. It worked for them, and Doyoung wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Anyways, how’s Johnny?” He asked, moving the conversation along as he cracked two eggs into a bowl.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself,” Ten said, and then there was rustling on the other end of the line before a lower voice spoke. Doyoung should’ve known. Of course, Ten and Johnny were together at the moment. It was almost opening time for the bar.

“How’s my favorite chef liking Paris?”

Doyoung’s heart soared. “Hey, Johnny.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It’s been three days since Doyoung saw Taeyong last. Three days since their trip to the museum.

It’s only been three days. 

So why does Doyoung miss him so much?

Letting out a groan, Doyoung plopped down on his couch, grabbing the remote off the coffee table to turn on the TV. He had finally got the perfect combination for his caramel sauce that morning and didn’t really want to do anything for the rest of the day. His notebook already had a few new pages filled with scribbles, notes from all the meals he has tried since he came to Paris. His favorite part of the dish, what he would change, the ingredients. Anything that could be of use to him in the future.

The sounds of the TV were reduced to a light hum in Doyoung’s ears as he drifted off into his thoughts. Glancing down at the coffee table, he noticed the crisp manila folder that lay still in the spot Doyoung placed it in only two days ago. Despite his parents as well as Ten insisting that Doyoung not worry about it, he couldn’t help but want to continue working on his business plan for the restaurant. He had started it a little less than a year ago, but with school and other responsibilities, as well as the prospect that the restaurant space would never be put on sale, he just never got around to finishing it. 

In retrospect, Doyoung knew working on the plan during what should have been his vacation was not the best choice, but he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t want to always drown himself in work. He asked Louis to help him print the plan out, to which the older man was more than happy to help.

Now it sat in front of him on the table, waiting for Doyoung to pick it back up and continue working.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really in the mood to stare at his bank loan proposal any more than he already has, but it would be better than lazily lounging in the same spot all day. He could just go out and have some fun, but for some reason, the idea seemed distasteful if he had to go alone. He was already so used to Taeyong’s presence after only two adventures? 

_ I’m going crazy, _ he hastily thought.

Sighing, Doyoung picked up the manila folder and undid the string. He gently took the stack of papers out, placing the now empty folder back on the coffee table. He stared at the first paper of the stack, which had “Business Proposal” scribbled quickly in his own handwriting at the top. It was accompanied by several notes in random spots across the paper, most of them from Johnny, who so graciously offered to help him create his plan when he first started it a couple of months back. After all, the man had knowledge and experience that Doyoung didn’t.

He stood up to go retrieve his pencil from where he left it on the kitchen counter next to his notebook so that he could continue when three soft knocks sounded from his door. Turning around, Doyoung walked over to greet whoever was at the door, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He ignored the sudden skip of his heart, wanting to pamper down any slight hopes that the visitor might be who he thought it was.

Doyoung’s heart betrayed him once more as its pace quickened when he opened the door. Looks like his hopes were correct. 

There, standing on the other side, was Taeyong.

It was as though Doyoung was seeing him for the first time all over again. All sharp angles and soft features clear on his face, his beauty evident from miles away. Any random bystander would do a double-take if they saw him walking down the street. He was practically unreal.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung’s voice hitched even though he desperately tried to keep it even and nonchalant. He couldn’t let Taeyong know the extent of his effect on him.

“Hey,” Taeyong started, an easy smile on his face. His hands were in his jean pockets, as if he was a little nervous to show up at Doyoung’s front door out the blue. He had already waltzed into Doyoung’s life as easy as rain fell from the sky, and if Doyoung stopped lying to himself, he would allow Taeyong to show up at his door any time he wanted without a complaint.

“I realized we never got each other’s phone numbers,” Taeyong continued, “So I came by in-person to ask if you were busy later on?” He rocked back and forth on his feet, a light dust of pink clear on his cheeks. As much as he wanted to sound cool when he talked to Doyoung as his way to impress him, his demeanor betrayed him. He was just really nervous, after all.

“Oh!” Doyoung exclaimed, “That’s so weird how we haven’t exchanged numbers yet. Hold on, let me get my phone now before we forget,” and like that, he turned on his heel and padded over to the coffee table, where his phone lay gingerly next to the manila folder. He grabbed it and went back to the door, where Taeyong stood in the same position, robotic in his stance out of nerves.

Doyoung passed the phone to Taeyong, who took it with a gruff ‘thank you’. Taeyong inputted his number into Doyoung’s contacts and handed the phone back to him, but not before shooting himself a text reading “hey cutie” in Korean. 

Doyoung couldn’t help but snort when he read the message. “Is this your way of asking me to call you cute again?” He asked, a playful smirk on his face as he looked back up at Taeyong. Taeyong only shrugged in response, his smile wide and toothy.

“Maybe, or maybe I’m just acknowledging how absolutely adorable I am,” he replied, mirth in his voice.

Another snort. “Keep dreaming,” but Doyoung still quickly changed Taeyong’s contact name to read  _ Cutie _ with a little camera emoji next to it.

He pocketed his phone and leaned against the side of the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, what were we talking about?”

“I was asking if you wanted to do something later. I know you haven’t seen the Eiffel Tower yet, and they’re doing a special show for the lights tonight, so…” Taeyong trailed off, the question hung in the air unsaid.

Doyoung couldn’t help the small smile that came to his lips. “Sounds like fun,” was his only response.  _ Right, play it cool _ , he thought.

At that, Taeyong let out a sigh of relief and shot him a big smile. He nodded his head, “Meet downstairs at 7 pm?”

Doyoung nodded as well, watching as Taeyong walked over to his own apartment right next door. He didn’t move from his position until the door clicked shut behind Taeyong. Willing himself to be calm, he righted himself and turned around to go back inside. He ignored the bubbling feeling of excitement that pooled in his stomach, waiting to boil over in the form of a cheek hurting smile or a lovestruck giggle.

Doyoung checked his phone and his stomach dropped. It was barely past 1 pm. What the hell was he going to do for six more hours?

He let out a sharp groan and fell back onto the couch.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


7 pm rolled around way slower than Doyoung wanted. He spent the whole time either trying to make a dent in his business plan or mindlessly scrolling through social media. There wasn’t anything interesting in either though, aside from a short video on Ten’s Instagram story that depicted Johnny on the floor trying to pick up what looked to be grains of rice. The video had a text box writing “this goof dropped an entire bowl of rice on the floor”. That got a laugh out of Doyoung, but other than that, the hours ticked on agonizingly slow.

Once it was time to meet Taeyong downstairs, Doyoung all but rushed to the lobby. He didn’t want to seem desperate, but he also hated being late for anything, which is how he found himself sitting in the lobby fifteen minutes before 7.

“Doyoung?”

Doyoung’s head snapped up from where he was picking at a loose thread in his jeans and was met with the site of Louis standing a little ways away from him, an easygoing smile on his face. 

Doyoung offered him a small smile. “Good evening, Louis.”

Louis walked over and sat next to Doyoung. “What is a fine man like yourself doing idling around my lobby at 7 pm on a Thursday?”

Doyoung looked down at his lap, offering the old man a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m actually waiting for someone.” He missed the glint that sparkled in Louis’ eyes as the old man looked down at him. A devilish smile spread across Louis’ face.

“It wouldn’t be the other young Korean boy who also happens to live right next to you, would it?” Louis asked innocently, but something in his smile told Doyoung he knew something.

Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows, “How’d you know that?”

Before Louis could give Doyoung an answer, though Doyoung suspected whatever the old man said wouldn’t have been helpful anyway, Taeyong waltzed up to the two of them.

“Hey Doyoung,” he called in Korean. Doyoung gave him a little wave. “Good evening, Louis,” he directed to Louis in English.

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Louis said lightly, sending Doyoung a wink that Taeyong couldn’t see. Doyoung blushed under the old man’s gaze, though he didn’t know why. Louis didn’t even say anything, so there wasn’t any reason for Doyoung to suddenly feel embarrassed.

Louis stood up and walked out the front doors of the building, leaving Doyoung and Taeyong alone.

“What was that about?” Taeyong asked, looking to where Louis just left.

Doyoung could only shrug, “He was just saying hi. He’s an old friend of my grandmother's.” He stood up and started walking with Taeyong out of the building to start their next adventure.

Taeyong hummed, not offering another response beyond that.

The two fell into comfortable conversation as they took their usual route to the metro station. It had already formed into a little routine of theirs, after only going on three adventures, which was how Doyoung liked to call them, together. 

Doyoung couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, and he looked off to his side to try and hide it from Taeyong. He couldn’t describe it, but there was something about already being so used to doing this with Taeyong that made his heart feel filled to the brim with excitement. 

“What are you smiling about?”

Doyoung looked back at Taeyong, who was smiling at him while also furrowing one of his eyebrows. Doyoung hadn’t realized that Taeyong caught him smiling to himself.

“Nothing,” Doyoung said out of reflex. “You,” he finished softly, looking anywhere but at the man next to him. He didn’t notice the blush that crawled up Taeyong’s neck and pricked at the tips of his ears.

“Oh,” Taeyong said, and when Doyoung looked back at him, he saw the other staring back with rosy cheeks and a light smile.

Doyoung’s heart skipped a beat.

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling its warmth on his fingers.

It’s safe to say the train ride was a silent one.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The Eiffel Tower was smaller than Doyoung expected. 

It wasn’t like he was anticipating a tower that extended high into the clouds, but 10-year-old Doyoung really hoped the Eiffel Tower was much larger in reality. 

Still, 24-year-old Doyoung was pleasantly surprised. The Eiffel Tower was nothing short of beautiful. There definitely was a reason his grandmother loved to see it so often.

They were currently strolling through the park in front of the tower, waiting for the sun to start setting so the light show could begin. 

Taeyong insisted they had to actually scale the tower once the sun had completely set and it was nighttime, for the “full experience”, as he had put it. Doyoung had only smiled and agreed, letting Taeyong make most of the decisions for them. He was happy just spending time with Taeyong and being able to do something that his grandmother used to enjoy.

The sun had started to kiss the edge of the horizon when Taeyong had dragged both of them to the sidewalk outside the far end of the park. The sky swam with colors of red and orange, their swirl fading away as the rich navy of the night peaked through the clouds littering the atmosphere.

Doyoung was getting lost in watching the stars’ shine slowly becoming visible against the dark blanket of the night when Taeyong tugged on his arm.

“Doyoung, it’s starting,” he said excitedly, and Doyoung averted his gaze from above him and directed it towards the tower looming in the distance, its outline slowly fading with the black of the sky. 

The tower almost became indiscernible against the night before suddenly it sprang to life, its lights glittering and shining. They then quickly started flashing in different patterns, giving the illusion the lights were traveling down the length of the tower before going back up. Then, the lights started glowing in different colors. A shining array of golds and silvers overtook the tower, illuminating it for everyone to see. 

From where Doyoung was standing, it was as though the tip of the tower reached into the heavens, its point high above the clouds. From where he was standing, the lights shone brighter than the gates of heaven, or whatever image of the gates Doyoung had conjured up. 

He spared a glance at Taeyong standing next to him, and his breath caught in his throat.

The lights of the tower shone brightly, their beams lighting up Taeyong’s face. The shadows of the night made his features look even sharper, but his eyes… they glittered brighter than the tower itself. His mouth was slightly open in wonder, its edges turned upwards in a small smile. He looked in awe of the lights.

Doyoung forgot how to breathe. Taeyong was so beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful.

It was at that moment that Taeyong decided to look at Doyoung, and Doyoung was caught in the act of staring at a literal angel.

He blinked and quickly looked away, cheeks firing up in embarrassment. Taeyong only sent him a toothy smile. One that made Doyoung’s heart melt.

The light show only lasted five minutes, but Taeyong said it occurred every hour on the hour for five minutes, so if they stayed they could watch it again. Doyoung only shook his head.

“I want to go to the top, now that the sun’s fully set,” he replied. Taeyong nodded and they walked the expense of the park once more until they were at the foot of the tower, ready to climb all the way to the top.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Doyoung wanted to go straight to the top, but Taeyong suggested they take their time exploring each of the levels.

“The roof isn’t going to detach and fly away before we get there,” Taeyong teased as they walked up the elevator.

“Whatever,” Doyoung grumbled, but he was happy exploring all the levels if it meant more time with Taeyong.

They started with the first level. It wasn’t anything too special, but they still spent a couple of minutes going around the perimeter. There was an interactive tour that talked more about the history of the tower, but Taeyong said the crowd would be too big, so it wasn’t worth it.

“Oh, I didn’t know there was a restaurant,” Doyoung remarked as they passed by the entrance to  _ Le 58 Tour Eiffel _ .

“Yeah,” Taeyong replied, “Though I haven’t had a chance to try it out yet. There’s another one on this floor as well as one on the second floor. From what I heard, the previous owner of the second floor’s restaurant has  _ seventeen _ Michelin stars.”

Doyoung looked at Taeyong with wide eyes. “Oh my god, are you talking about Alain Ducasse?” A shocked gasp escaped his lips.

“I think so,” Taeyong said, “Do you know him?”

“Do I  _ know _ him?” Doyoung sputtered, “Anyone in their right mind who wants to pursue culinary arts knows him. He’s arguably one of the best chefs in the whole world. He is  _ the _ expert for world-class French cuisine. I mean, the man has received 21 Michelin stars throughout his whole career, and currently holds the most in the world. Did you know he’s the only chef in the world to send his food into space?  _ Space _ , Taeyong.” Doyoung had forgotten to take a breath in the middle of his rant, so his breath came out in short huffs once he had finished.

Taeyong stared at him, a disbelieving look on his face. “That’s probably the most passionate I’ve ever seen you talk about something in the short time I’ve known you.”

Doyoung rolled his eyes, lowering his hands that he had subconsciously raised while talking. He was glad for the lights behind him that cast shadows on his face so that Taeyong couldn’t see the blush that adorned his cheeks.

“Sorry,” was all Doyoung could muster, wringing his hands together. “You already know I’m a culinary student, but I actually want to specialize in French cuisine, so I kind of got excited when you mentioned Alain Ducasse.”

Taeyong chuckled, “Don’t be sorry, Doyoung. I like it when you get passionate. The way your eyes lit up, it was pretty.”

Doyoung looked up to meet Taeyong’s gaze. There was something in it, something Doyoung couldn’t recognize. His cheeks warmed even further, and any response he was about to give died on his lips. 

They stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other, but Doyoung’s stomach churned. He felt a weird sense of Deja Vu and quickly looked down while taking a step away from Taeyong. His hands shot up defensively and wrapped around his upper arms, unconsciously closing himself off. A dry chuckle escaped his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling cottony. He cursed himself when he noticed Taeyong’s shoulders slightly slump out of the corner of his eye. 

“Want to keep going?” Doyoung said, trying to change the subject from the apparent prettiness of his eyes. He really couldn’t handle it when people complimented him. His hands fidgeted and his legs felt way too stiff, and he couldn’t look Taeyong in the eyes anymore. But that wasn’t the real reason he shied away from Taeyong. 

Truthfully, Doyoung was scared. He had never felt like this before and he thought that it was okay, that he didn’t have to think too much about it, but the more time he spent with Taeyong, the more he felt the thing between them become  _ real _ . And he didn’t know what to do. Did he want this? This isn’t what he came to Paris for. Was he disrespecting his grandmother by only caring about spending time with a stranger instead of focusing on his goal? No, his grandmother would never think of it like that. Doyoung was just making excuses, right?

His mind was racing a mile a minute, unrelenting. He didn’t even notice that he completely missed Taeyong’s response to his question if there even was one. He looked into Taeyong’s eyes and saw the other had noticed he spaced out as well.

Doyoung thought he had ruined the entire mood of the night until Taeyong gave him an easygoing smile and turned to keep going, the slump of his shoulders gone. Doyoung exhaled in relief and followed Taeyong as they continued on around the first level.

He still felt bad, so he tried staying as close to Taeyong as possible, hoping the other would notice his odd way of apologizing for making things awkward. 

Doyoung was only able to relax when Taeyong bumped shoulders with him and stuck his tongue out at him. He laughed, small and genuine, and gave Taeyong a grateful smile in return, hoping the other could read the emotions in his eyes that he was trying to convey.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


They were in the elevator going up to the second floor when Taeyong suddenly said, “You know what, why don’t we just go straight to the top floor from here?”

Doyoung looked at him. “But you said we should take our time on each level. What changed your mind?” He asked.

The elevator dinged and they stepped out onto the second floor with the crowd, but instead of walking in the direction of the observation deck, Taeyong lightly grasped Doyoung’s wrist and led him to the other set of elevators that went all the way up to the top.

“Do you trust me?” Taeyong said in return, not answering Doyoung’s question.

Doyoung shook his head in confusion. “What does that have to do with-”

Taeyong cut him off, “Doyoung.”

Doyoung met Taeyong’s eyes. There was glint there and a playful smile on his face. It made him look so innocent and pretty, as if the sharp features of his face suddenly turned round and soft. Doyoung could spend an eternity looking at Taeyong’s face.

Doyoung could only scoff. “I barely know you. For all I know you could be a serial killer that wants all my money,” he said, but he still didn’t move his wrist out of Taeyong’s grasp and smiled at the other.

That was the only answer Taeyong needed. He laughed and led them onto the elevator that would take them all the way to the top. And Doyoung laughed with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> has anyone realized I'm an aspiring chef myself with the way I write Doyoung? haha!! it's true I want to study culinary arts and go into the hospitality industry. writing Doyoung as a chef is like a comfort for me! and not totally off the bat since Doyoung himself loves to cook :-)
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter!! sorry for the cliffhanger ;) but it's worth it in the next chapter! (which I do not know when I will post sorry ><)
> 
> as always, tell me what you think with a comment! or come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/doyuberry)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad but I'm not going to finish this fic sorry 

  
  


“A serial killer?”

Doyoung shrugged. “My best friend has a very… colorful imagination” was his only response.

Taeyong shook his head but there was a slight smile on his face. 

They were currently in the elevator that would take them up to the third level observation deck at the top of the tower. The line was kind of long and they were almost being squished against the back wall of the elevator, but Doyoung didn’t really mind.

The elevator came to a stop and they slowly made their way out with the crowd.

Immediately after stepping out, Doyoung was bit with a small gust of wind. The summer night breeze was warm and felt silky as it combed through his hair. 

“Have you been up here before?” Doyoung absentmindedly asked Taeyong as they started walking to the railing on the lower part of the deck.

“Once. A little bit after I first got here. It wasn’t really exciting by myself though,” Taeyong explained.

“Why is that?” Doyoung replied.

“Because views like these are meant to be shared,” Taeyong said, but Doyoung didn’t hear him. They had finally made it to the railings and it was… 

“Incredible,” Doyoung whispered. 

They weren’t too high up. This wasn’t the tallest tower in the world. But at that moment, Doyoung thought he was the tallest man in the world.

The lights of Paris glittered. He could see the entire expense of the city, its buildings stretching farther than the eye could see. Its lights shone all the way up to the horizon where it was met with the deep black of the sky. There at the edge, the shine of the city lights was replaced with the shine of the stars. 

From up there, the city looked _ alive _ . It was singing, it was dancing, all coming to life right in front of Doyoung’s eyes.

Suddenly, a beautiful song whispered in Doyoung’s ears, and he belatedly registered that it was his grandmother singing. She sang the song she always sang to Doyoung when he was a child.

_ “Smile though your heart is aching _

_ Smile even though it's breaking _

_ When there are clouds in the sky _

_ You'll get by” _

He heard her sing to him from the skies. He looked up at the beauty above him and smiled, a tear running down his cheek. He could still hear her sing to him and sang along with her.

“If you smile, through your fear and sorrow. Smile, and maybe tomorrow, you’ll see the sun come shining through,” he sang to himself, quickly wiping the tear from his face. A shaky breath escaped his lips.

“Doyoung?” Taeyong whispered.

Doyoung looked over to Taeyong but didn’t see him. Behind the other, was a silhouette of Doyoung’s grandmother, but not the one Doyoung knew and loved. It was his grandmother when she was his age, at the time when she lived in Paris. She wasn’t looking at Doyoung, but at something off to her left. Doyoung didn’t know what she was looking at, but his guess was that she was looking at his grandfather. They frequently visited the tower together.

He let out another shaky breath when he saw the look in his grandmother’s eyes. Her eyes were filled with adoration and tenderness, and his heart ached. He missed them so much.

“Doyoung?” Taeyong called again, finally reeling Doyoung out of his thoughts.

“I’m okay,” he said lightly, seeing the worried expression on Taeyong’s face. He turned back to look out over the railing. “It’s just that my grandmother really loved this view. I thought of her when I saw it and I kind of got emotional.” He chuckled, but his voice felt a little hoarse.

Taeyong’s eyes softened, and he gently placed his hand over Doyoung’s. He didn’t say anything, but Doyoung appreciated the warmth that his hand brought. He let their hands stay on top of each other, and let go of all the doubting thoughts he had, if only for a moment.

“Let’s keep moving,” Taeyong said softly, letting go of Doyoung’s hand. Doyoung didn’t say anything about the sudden coldness of his hand and silently followed Taeyong.

They slowly walked the length of the railing, making silly jokes about being able to see their apartment building from where they were. It was once they were on the upper level of the deck that Taeyong dared to touch Doyoung again.

He placed a hand on Doyoung’s shoulder to grab the other’s attention, and when Doyoung turned back to look at him, he had an excited smile on his face.

“The reason I was in such a hurry to get to the top was because of this,” Taeyong said.

Doyoung was about to ask what “this” even was, but Taeyong just turned his shoulder so that he was looking slightly above them both, towards the tip of the tower.

As if on cue, the light show at the beginning of every hour started, enveloping the tower once more in a glittering aura. Doyoung couldn’t help but open his mouth slightly in awe.

“I know it’s not the same as on the ground, but I still find it pretty to see the lights glimmer from here,” Taeyong said into his ear.

Doyoung took his gaze away from the lights of the tower to look at Taeyong and was again met with a feeling of Deja Vu. 

Taeyong was glowing under the lights, his face lighting up in all the right spots. It was the same as when Doyoung saw him staring at the tower just one hour ago, but this time felt different. His heart was already feeling weak envisioning his grandmother and spending so much time with Taeyong that he almost completely let his inhibitions go.

“You’re beautiful,” He let himself whisper, loud enough that only Taeyong could hear it among the bustle of the observation deck. He didn’t miss the way Taeyong’s eyes glinted at the compliment. First in confusion, and second in bashfulness.

“Says you,” Taeyong shot back, unable to hide the smile on his lips.

Doyoung scrunched his eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Taeyong only rolled his eyes. “Doyoung, you’re probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and I’ve worked with top industry models.”

The words rang in Doyoung’s ears. Blood rushed to his cheeks and he scoffed to save himself from his embarrassment. He mumbled out a reply, but it wasn’t coherent enough for Taeyong or even himself to understand.

They were surprisingly the only ones in the elevator going back down to the second level.

“You know, we can still check out the second floor if you wanted,” Taeyong started, turning to look at Doyoung, “I know how excited you were to see that Alain guy’s restaurant.”

Doyoung smiled, cheeks buzzing with warmth at the fact that Taeyong remembered the name of the chef Doyoung gushed about previously. “We can do it some other time,” he replied lightly, not realizing the underlying invitation in them. Taeyong caught onto it instantly.

“Okay,” Taeyong said brightly, eyes twinkling. Doyoung lazily thought how his eyes seemed to hold as many stars like the night sky, if not more.

The rational voice in his head was slowly losing its battle, and the fluttering feeling in Doyoung’s heart was slowly, but surely, winning.

  
  
  
  
  


They scaled down the tower together, the conversation between them lulling into a comfortable silence. They walked slowly down the sidewalk towards the metro station, looking at the city around them as the sky above shone brightly.

Doyoung didn’t want the atmosphere of the night to be broken just yet.

Taeyong must have felt it too because he spoke up towards the end of their train ride back to their neighborhood.

“Hey, Doyoung?” He called softly.

Doyoung hummed, signaling that he was listening.

“Are you tired?”

Excitement thrilling in his veins, Doyoung tried to hide his smile. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but there was really only one thing that Taeyong could have meant when he asked that question.

“Not really, no,” He replied, sounding casual even though everything in him was buzzing and screaming.

Taeyong smiled at that. All he said was, “Good.”

  
  
  
  
  


Doyoung found himself on the roof that Taeyong took him to not too long ago.

Taeyong guided him up the stairs again and through the door that opened up to the top of the building. While he walked over to turn on the lights above the seating area, Doyoung wandered over to the ledge, just like he did the first time he was up there.

He looked out over the city, and let his mind wander. He thought about the day and everything that happened. From not knowing when he would see Taeyong again to going on one of the best adventures of his life. He thought about the words they shared, on the street, and at the top of the tower. 

The tension between them was becoming clearer with each passing moment between them, and before long it would have to be named. Doyoung didn’t know if he was ready for that, but he wasn’t scared. He wanted this. He wanted to spend time with Taeyong, and he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t think about what the other’s lips would feel like on his own.

He thought of his grandmother. Hearing her voice singing to him definitely took him by surprise, and Doyoung vaguely wondered if he was going crazy, but he was grateful to be able to hear it again. Deep inside he had feared he would forget how her voice sounded, but she was still with him, singing to him from the stars.

Doyoung looked over to where Taeyong was fiddling with the blankets and pillows on top of the couches. What did he do to deserve to meet someone as beautiful and amazing as Taeyong? It was almost as if his grandmother sent down an angel to watch over him.

Doyoung laughed at the thought because it did sound like his grandmother to try and push him in the right direction with something he didn’t think he needed. 

He hadn’t admitted it yet, but spending time with Taeyong made Doyoung slowly let go of all his doubts. Not just his doubts about becoming closer to a stranger, but his doubts about himself and his doubts about coming to Paris. His grandmother’s words rang loud in his ears.

_ Oh, bunny. You cannot find the thing you are searching for, it can only find you.  _

Maybe he could stop his fixation on finding something he couldn’t even name.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Taeyong said from his spot on the couch, looking at Doyoung with a playful smile on his face.

“What can I say? I like the view,” Doyoung responded, but he still walked over to where Taeyong was and sat down, not caring about the space, or lack thereof, between them.

“What do you see when you look over the city?” Taeyong asked, leaning back against the cushions and looking at Doyoung.

Doyoung thought about it for a few moments. 

“My grandmother used to say this, so it’s not really original,” Doyoung started, crossing one leg over the other. He chuckled lightly at the memory, before continuing, “She told me that whenever she looked out over Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower she was thinking about the next person she would cook for. To her, all the lights, whether in the sky or in the buildings, were different people she hadn’t met yet. It seemed so silly when I was younger. Why did she care so much about finding her next customer when she’s looking at such a beautiful view? She said it was because she wanted to move people with her food. She said her food was going to change the world, one person at a time. God, just thinking about it, when I first heard that was probably when I decided I wanted to be just like her.”

“That’s cute,” Taeyong said softly.

Doyoung nodded, looking off to his right. “I guess as I grew up I saw the world a little differently. When I look out over this city, I think of her and her words. But, I think for me, I see memories. Memories I’ve experienced firsthand, the memories I’ve experienced through listening to stories, and the memories I know I have yet to experience. Does that make any sense?”

Taeyong hummed. “It does. I think I like that world view. Mine’s a little similar. Whenever I look at a view I’m always thinking about the possibilities for my next photoshoot. But sometimes I’m not really thinking about my physical camera. Sometimes I’m just taking mental pictures, wanting to savor the moment. Like tonight.”

Doyoung’s cheeks heated up and he glanced over to Taeyong, who was looking at him with a warm smile. “Tonight?” He asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it out loud.

“Mhm. I want to savor this night with you for a long time,” Taeyong whispered, staring straight into Doyoung’s soul.

His eyes glistened, and Doyoung was mesmerized. He felt as though Taeyong was founding out every little secret about him just by looking at him with those sparkling eyes. Doyoung decided he would let him.

A sudden cold breeze blew past them and bit at Doyoung’s nose, making him shiver. 

“Are you cold?” Taeyong asked, suddenly turning in his seat to something behind on the couch.

“Oh, no I’m okay Taeyong,” Doyoung started, but the next thing he knew a light throw blanket was wrapped around his shoulders by Taeyong.

Taeyong held the edges of the blanket tentatively in front of Doyoung after he adjusted it so that Doyoung was kept warm. He wasn’t looking at Doyoung, but rather at his hands, which were fidgeting with the fabric.

Doyoung looked at the other, sitting in front of him. The second breeze that came, warmer this time, brushed through Taeyong’s soft brown locks. There was the faintest of blushes on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Doyoung would have normally chalked it up to the wind, but the little spark in his heart told him maybe he was the cause of Taeyong’s blush.

Taeyong shyly lifted his head up to look Doyoung in the eyes.

“Thank you,” Doyoung said, his voice unusually soft. He subconsciously lowered his voice so as to not break the fragile bubble that surrounded them.

Doyoung’s heart rang loud in his ears, the only sound he could hear. His hands shook slightly where they rested on his lap, but he noticed Taeyong’s own hands were also shaking.

Not thinking, he brought his hands up and enveloped Taeyong’s with his. They were soft to the touch, in contrast to Doyoung’s calloused fingertips, a result of holding knives for years.

Before Doyoung even knew what was happening, Taeyong pulled him down by the fabric of the blanket and placed the faintest of kisses on his lips.

It was only for a moment, a light press of lips together. The only thing that registered in Doyoung’s brain was that Taeyong’s lips were  _ really soft _ .

In the next second, Taeyong was pulling back, harshly, as though he had just burned himself. Doyoung stared at him wide-eyed.

“Shit, ah, I didn’t, I’m sorry, just forget about, ah” Taeyong rambled, tripping over his words. His face sparked with heat, everything a flushed pink from the tips of his ears down to the bottom of his neck. “I wasn’t even thinking, oh my god, I’m sorry, I-”

Before Taeyong could get another word in, Doyoung grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him again,  _ hard _ .

Their lips met in a fierce embrace. Taeyong was surprised by Doyoung’s sudden actions, but Doyoung was even more surprised. He was pleasantly shocked by the light kiss Taeyong left on his lips but listening to Taeyong ramble as if he regretted the kiss spurred him on to make Taeyong see he didn’t regret it one bit.

No, he didn’t regret it. He wanted to keep doing it until he didn’t know where he ended and where Taeyong started.

Taeyong’s hands tightened around the blanket as their lips slotted together.

It started out with just another press of their lips, but as they both relaxed Doyoung licked at Taeyong’s bottom lip, silently asking for permission. With a sigh, Taeyong opened his mouth and let Doyoung slip his tongue inside.

The hand at the back of Taeyong’s neck started playing with the hairs at his nape, Doyoung’s slender fingers cooling Taeyong’s warm skin. Doyoung kept Taeyong grounded as he melted into the kiss.

Their tongues danced around each other passionately, the skin of their lips becoming wet.

Doyoung’s entire body was on fire. It was as though once he started kissing Taeyong, he couldn’t stop. Every weird feeling he had in the past few weeks talking to Taeyong, every flutter of his heart, every flush of his cheeks, all of it pooled deep in his heart as he kissed Taeyong. He let the feelings overcome him, and let them pour out of him through his lips into Taeyong.

He pulled back slightly, but not before sucking on Taeyong’s bottom lip for a moment. The other let out a faint whimper at this, which made something pulse deep in Doyoung’s gut.

They both panted hotly, out of breath. They were still close enough for their noses to touch, but neither of them said anything.

“Don’t be sorry,” Doyoung breathed, his lips twitching slightly seeing the redness still present in Taeyong’s ears.

Taeyong only nodded his head, not trusting his voice to speak. He let go of the blanket with one hand and brought it up to cup Doyoung’s jaw, caressing the side of Doyoung’s cheek with his thumb. He stayed like that for a moment, looking at Doyoung’s face. It was as though he was mapping out Doyoung’s every feature, cataloging it into his memories.  _ A mental picture _ .

“You’re beautiful, more than any other model. Did you know that?” He eventually whispered, eliciting a blush out of Doyoung

“You’ve said it before, but somehow I still don’t believe you,” Doyoung mumbled, glancing down at Taeyong’s lips before looking back up at his eyes.

“Well I think you should maybe trust the one who’s worked with professional models,” Taeyong said with a playful smile on his face.

“Oh yeah?” Doyoung replied, leaning forwards with a smirk on his face, “Part of me thinks you’re still that dangerous serial killer.”

Taeyong laughed, high and light, but was cut off when Doyoung kissed him again, softer this time. 

There wasn’t any rush in their movements. They just let their lips move against each other and savored the feeling of each other.

At one point, Taeyong leaned back until his back was pressed against the cushions of the couch and Doyoung was hovering over him, their lips still touching.

The blanket fell off Doyoung’s shoulders and onto the floor next to the couch, long forgotten.

The moon moved high in the sky, watching over all, keeping everything it saw that night a secret from the morning sun.

  
  
  
  
  


Doyoung awoke with a terrible pain in his back but also a flooding feeling of happiness in his heart.

Judging by the amount of light in the sky, the sun had risen not too long ago. 

He and Taeyong, after making out for an indistinguishable amount of time, settled into the couch to look at the few stars that were visible in the sky. They ended up in a tangle of limbs since there wasn’t much room for two grown men on the couch, but Doyoung didn’t mind. Not when he could not only hear Taeyong laugh but feel the vibrations of Taeyong’s chest underneath his hands.

They probably stayed like that for a couple more hours before they both drifted up to sleep, entangled in each other’s embrace and not wanting to let go. 

Taeyong was still sleeping when Doyoung finally adjusted his eyes to the morning light. He looked so peaceful in Doyoung’s arms, chest rising slowly as he breathed.

Reaching up a hand, Doyoung lightly pushed away a stray strand of hair from Taeyong’s forehead. Even the skin of his face was smooth and soft. With the tips of his fingers, Doyoung traced down the side of Taeyong’s face, from the curve of his cheekbone down to the slant of his jawbone, and across to the plump of his lower lip.

Taeyong then stirred, blinking rapidly and fluttering his eyelashes. Doyoung instinctively retreated his hand, embarrassed by his actions.

“Mm, why’d you stop?” Taeyong mumbled, voice groggy with sleep. He opened one eye slightly to look up at Doyoung, an easygoing smile making its way to his lips. “It felt nice.”

Doyoung blushed, face hot, but he still brought his hand back up to gently trace Taeyong’s face. “Good morning,” he whispered, looking down at Taeyong’s eyes, which fluttered close as he relaxed under Doyoung’s caress.

“Good morning,” Taeyong breathed back, sighing when Doyoung brought his fingers to Taeyong’s hair. He carded his fingers through the soft hairs, noticing it eased every muscle in Taeyong’s body and pulled him back to light sleep.

“Do you have to work today?” Doyoung asked, stopping his hand for a second when Taeyong didn’t respond right away. It got the reaction he wanted because Taeyong squirmed and scrunched his nose. 

_ Adorable _ .

“No, so please let me sleep a little more,” and that was all the answer Doyoung needed before he went back to playing with Taeyong’s hair, ignoring the numbness of his legs.

It was probably another hour or two before Taeyong stirred awake again. 

The sky was now its usual light blue, puffy white clouds lazily swimming across the expanse of the atmosphere as the sun provided its light to those on the surface of the earth.

When Taeyong opened his eyes, Doyoung wasn’t there. He shot up in his seat, eyes blurry from sleep. He quickly rubbed at his eyelids, trying to will away his sudden dizziness.

Once all that subsided, he opened his eyes again and found Doyoung sitting on the other end of the couch, arm leaning against the top of the couch, trying to suppress a laugh behind his hand.

“Did I scare you?” Doyoung asked, eyes softening when he saw Taeyong pout and slump his shoulders.

“I thought you left. I thought maybe I had dreamed everything up,” Taeyong replied, voice small.

Doyoung smiled and scooted closer to Taeyong when the other crossed his legs and sat up straight. “I didn’t mean to make you think I left,” He replied, resting his hand on Taeyong’s knee, “I was just in a really uncomfortable position and wanted to let you sleep a little longer.”

Taeyong nodded, his racing heartbeat calming significantly. “What time is it?” He said as a reply.

“Around 9 am. What do you want to do?” Doyoung asked, rubbing small circles on Taeyong’s knee with his thumb, not even noticing his movements. Taeyong looked down at the other’s hand and couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face.

“I want to have breakfast,” He decided, looking up and smiling cutely at Doyoung. “Cook for me?”

“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” Doyoung teased, squeezing Taeyong’s knee slightly.

But Taeyong was only just getting started. He leaned forward until his face was inches away from Doyoung. He pouted and gave Doyoung huge puppy eyes, putting on his best cute voice.

“Doyoungie,” He whined, “Please cook for me?” He batted his eyelashes and saw the blush forming on Doyoung’s cheeks. He internally giggled at how cute the other was when he was flustered. He closed the distance between them and placed a kiss on the corner of Doyoung’s mouth. When he drew back Doyoung’s eyes were wide and his cheeks were flaming red. “Please?”

Doyoung coughed and quickly hid his face to try and collect himself. “God you’re so cute,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, but Taeyong heard him.

“I know,” Taeyong coyly said, giggling at the irritated look on Doyoung’s face when he lifted his head again. He stood up and grabbed Doyoung’s hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. Doyoung thought of how easily their hands fit together like they were made to be.

He let Taeyong drag him all the way back to his apartment so they could have breakfast together. He vaguely thought how he got to this point, being dragged by a beautiful man to his own apartment in a foreign city, but he couldn’t even complain when Taeyong shot him a flashing smile from over his shoulder.

_ Grandmother, if you’re seeing this, I think I’ve finally been found. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sigh it's such a bad way to end it but :( sorry again


End file.
